In the Realms
by LunaSoleil07
Summary: The New Order, led by Gemma Doyle, must contend with their newest, most powerful enemy for the Realms' magick. Expect Kartik sightings, Pippa fightings, and unexpected confusion. Set in classic Libba Bray narrative. R&R.
1. Introduction

**In the Realms**

All recognizable things belong to Libba Bray, that amazing woman who deigned to give us a glimpse into her mind. All else… Well, I suppose you could say it was mine. I would prefer you did not, though.

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My name is Gemma Doyle…and I have a secret. No one in my family knows who I really am; for that matter, I doubt that _I_ know who I truly am. However, this is not the point I wish to make in the course of my narrative. I have become a rebel over Christmas holidays away from Spence, quietly choosing my own will over another's.

Perhaps it was not so quiet, though. Over that winter break, I changed. I had to fight a woman I had once considered a friend, someone I had trusted enough to bring into the Realms.

The Realms. How could I have been so stupid? All the evidence pointed to Miss Moo – No. She is Sarah Rees-Toome, and so she shall remain in my memory. If I had not been so blind with accusations, with trust, I might have been able to prevent the loss of Pippa to the Winterlands.

Yet, in losing her, I have gained a Realm of allies. I still visit Asha, the Untouchable, when I need my senses and head cleared. I visit the Gorgon; she is my best source of Realm information, and I rely on her the most, of all the Realm creatures.

So far, I am the only one of the New Order who has gone back into the Realms. Fee says she is not yet ready to re-enter, and I respect that. Ever since Pip was lost to the Winterlands, Fee has not been the same. Ann, on the other hand, has adjusted most beautifully at Spence, though she also says she is not ready for the Realms. Apparently, the spell I placed on Cecily at the opera has yet to wear off, and she has convinced the other girls that they should treat Ann with respect. I think Kartik is also unready, since he has yet to contact me face to face.

I know little of what he does right now, as our communications must be written so that only we can understand them. Since coming up with a code is so difficult, I have only received three letters from him in the five months we have been apart. Of course, I care nothing of receiving letters from him – why should I?

After all, I am a gentleman's daughter, and recently sixteen. I am above such petty things as first crushes.

Truly, I am.

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A/N: Yes, it was short. Yes, this will be Gemma/Kartik -- for now. Any other questions, comments, or concerns should be left in a review. Blessed be.  



	2. Continuation

**In the Realms, Chapter Two  
**

A/N: This is the last chapter that will be in journal format. The following chapters I plan to have in the standard Libba Bray narrative. Feedback, as always, is appreciated. Enjoy.

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The Gypsies have returned to the woods beyond Spence. I have yet to see Kartik among their number, but he could very well be keeping away from me. The Order of the past took it very hard when I refused to let them into the Realms; they have vowed not to rest until they have seen the Realms for themselves.

The Rakshana could track Kartik through me, so I consider it a blessing that he refuses to see me. In the last message he sent, he said that he would try to see me at Spence. That letter came in the middle of my summer break, though; I do not know if he still plans to come back here.

Felicity has gotten some of her smile back. She still has such sadness in her eyes – it seems that only now does she mourn the loss of Pippa. Before, just after Pip died, we could go see her at our collective whim in the Realms. Now that Pip has fled to the Winterlands, we have realized that she cannot return – at least, not as the same person we all loved.

On a slightly happier note, my brother asked about Ann in his monthly letter to me. I shall write a rough approximation of what he said here, in my journal:

"Gemma – how is your friend, Miss Bradshaw? I ask only because I am concerned about her treatment at Spence, now that she has most inelegantly been exposed as a fraud. I truly hope that the two of you, as well as your friend Miss Worthington, consider yourselves well."

I do not fool myself into thinking that Tom could possibly take an interest in Ann – he has made it most clear that he refuses to marry any woman other than a rich one. It does occur to me, however, that he might try his luck at courting Fee. Seeing as she managed to turn down Simon, of all men, though… The only conclusion I can come to is that Fee is _very_ particular about her courtships.

Oh goodness! I cannot believe this – Kartik! I can see him at the edge of the forest, signing something at me. I hope…

No. I hope nothing other than this: that the Rakshana and the past Order have not caught up to Kartik, to the New Order – and to me. Perhaps Kartik is now ready to see the Realms for himself, see the river, the gorgon, the garden, the Temple, and – maybe even the Cave of Sighs.

I fool no one with my attitude. Not even myself.


	3. The New Order

A/N: Okay, confession time: I'm a review whore. I really _love_ getting reviews, so, please – if you've read the story and had an opinion on it (good or bad, since flames are rude yet at times helpful), give me a review! Now back to our regularly scheduled **_narrative_** (yay!) story… 

**In the Realms, Chapter Three**

Kartik looks impatient as I trip over the darkened lawn to the woods. I half expect snow to fall around him, as it did the last time he stood at Spence, though I look for the white dancers in vain. It is only early September; snow is still far off, close at mother winter's side. Tonight, though, the stars sparkle in the dusky sky, giving me light enough to see his features.

"You took enough time, Miss Doyle," he mutters to me once I enter the cover of trees. I throw back the hood of my cloak, glaring at him.

"I had to wait for Ann to fall asleep before I could come out here," I retort. I cross my arms over my chest, intent on being stubborn and obstinate. "What is that you wanted, Kartik?" I ask, longing for my bed.

His dark eyes pierce through mine, looking for something in their depths. When he cannot find for what he searches, he sighs gustily and moves to lean against a tree. "I would like a favour," he replies quietly, eyes focused on the ground between his boots. I say nothing, waiting for him to continue. His gaze sweeps up, again finding my face. "Can you…," he begins.

I lean forward, eager to hear what he has to say. Against my better judgment, a small corner of my mind whispers, _'Please, please, say you will go to the Realms…'_

In that moment, an arrow flies between us, landing with a soft thump in a tree. I jerk back, away from Kartik; our gazes turn to the still-quivering arrow, Kartik wondering aloud from where it had come.

"I already know," I reply grimly. Then I raise my voice, ignoring Kartik's wide-eyed cautions of quiet. "Fee! I know you're there! Come out!" When nothing moves, I sigh and call out, "Safety!"

Felicity steps forward out of the trees, still holding her bow. I study her, eyes narrowed, before asking tightly, "Why did you follow me?"

She tosses her head haughtily, again wearing the façade of Miss Worthington in front of Kartik. "For your information, Gemma Doyle," she snaps icily, "I did not follow you. I was out here already, practicing my archery. When I saw something move over here, I shot at it."

"Why?" Kartik demands. "Were you planning to make another sacrifice to a Winterlands beast?" I look at him, a frown on my lips; with a small shake of my head, he knows that he has overstepped the line of decency.

Fee's skin reddens. "You…you…," she sputters incoherently, her hands flexing dangerously on the quiver and bow. The warning is quite clear to me, though Kartik merely looks amused; if he thinks that Felicity could not use it against him, Fee would quickly prove him wrong.

"Hope?" a small voice cries out. "Strength?" Ann breaks through the brush, stumbling over a root and tumbling into the clearing. "Ouch!" she yelps, picking herself up off the ground. I smother a snicker into my hand, as does Kartik; Fee, on the other hand, has no such qualms and bursts out laughing.

Kartik looks at me, the laughter dying in his throat and subtle confusion on his features. "I thought you said she was asleep?"

"I thought she was," I reply incredulously. "Were you funning, Ann Bradshaw?" I accuse. Ann looks away, pretending not to hear me, though her grin tells me everything. I finally turn again to Kartik. "You were about to ask me something, if I remember correctly."

"Yes," he replies. "I had hoped to talk to you about this alone, but… I suppose these are the other members of the New Order?"

"You could bet your buttons on that," Fee answers proudly, shaking her hair away from her face. The animosity between her and Kartik has evidently disappeared with Ann's comedic arrival. "So, Gemma." Felicity turns her eyes to me. "This is a meeting of the New Order, and yet you did not tell us? How rude!"

"I assumed that Kartik wanted to speak only to me – that is how we have always done in the past," I admit. "I did not think that, perhaps, this was Order business."

"Whose business would it be, if not Order?" Kartik asks quietly. "After all, I am no longer Rakshana – you saw to that." I can feel a flush spread across my face, contrasting most inelegantly with my red hair, I am certain. "Shall I continue?" he asks. We agree and sit on a fallen tree trunk, facing Kartik as though he were an instructor.

"I came here to ask Gemma a favour." No one moves as Kartik takes a breath. "I came to ask if she would show me the Realms."

A flurry of action answers his words. I jump from my seat, enthusiastically agreeing; Felicity leaps with a gasp, arguing with me; Ann twitches, unsure with whom to side. In the end, I win, and we make a circle. I instruct Kartik to take my hand, and selfishly place Ann on his other side. A quick explanation of what to expect I give Kartik, and we close our eyes, waiting for the door to come. I bite my lip, unsure if this would again work. We girls sigh in relief when the door of light appears to us, though I can hear Kartik gasping in awe.

I reach out and turn the knob, revealing the gorgeous interior of the Main Realm. "Welcome," I tell Kartik with a smile, "to the Realms."

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A/N: Okay reader(s) -- I have an assignment for you. Not only do I ask you to reveiw, but also tell your G&TB/RA-loving friends about my story. I've been getting good feedback, so, if you really like it as much as it seems you do…spread the word! Yay, shameless plugging! Now, to make you all hate me, read the below:

**Next Chapter Teaser**: _"I shyly offer a flower, and he leans forward to smell it. I drink in his expression, noting the way his unusually long lashes rest on his cheekbone, the way his light breathing moves the petals, and the way his mouth curves into a hint of a smile. His eyes open, locking with mine; he leans towards me. I am sure he is about to kiss me – and I want him to."_


	4. Out of the Woods, Into the Realms

Disclaimer: All recognizable things belong to Libba Bray, that amazing woman who deigned to give us a glimpse into her mind. All else… Well, I suppose you could say it was mine. I would prefer you did not, though.

A/N: Another chapter. Wow, I've been pretty faithful, haven't I? --chorus of _yes, Luna_-- Ah, my readers. Now that I'm done being insane... Enjoy!

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**In the Realms, Chapter Four  
**

Ann and Felicity leap through the door with shouts of delight. Immediately, Fee has conjured her bows and arrows, using trees for target practice. Ann begins singing to rocks and plants, who dance through the direction of her song. I smile to myself, noticing that they have truly become what Nell called them – Strength and Song. 

"Hope!" Ann calls to me joyfully, turning around to face me. "Hope, come and join us!" She beckons and I step into the garden. Ann smiles beautifully, and I find myself wishing that she would carry this attitude back into our world.

"Why does she call you that?" I start forward when I hear Kartik's voice at my ear; in all the excitement of returning, I had quite forgotten he, too, had come with us. I turn and catch his gaze. He lingers just outside the doorway, and I frown.

"I will tell you if you enter," I reply. His eyebrows draw together, as if he has only just noticed that he has not come into the garden with us. Kartik steps out of Spence's woods and into our world. I sigh, glad that the Realms have not shut him out, as I have heard they can do. Asha warned me that not everyone I choose will be able to enter – but it appears that Kartik has passed whatever test the Realm put to him.

"I am called Hope because, to the Realms, that is what I am," I begin explaining as I walk towards a path, away from Felicity's cries of victory and Ann's voice. I do not know to where it leads, but I do not worry for the moment. Kartik can fight, and I can take care of myself – any trouble that we meet should be no trouble at all. "Last winter, I met a girl named Nell Hawkins. She was a visionary, one who could see into this world."

"Was?" Kartik asks, a troubled look crossing his features. "You mean – she has died?"

"Yes." I bite my lip. "I killed her." I rush on before Kartik can say anything, "Miss Moore was going to sacrifice her to a Winterlands beast – Nell did not want to lose her life in such a manner. She asked me to kill her instead. I did as she pleaded. But, in a prophecy she gave to me about the location of the Temple, she gave us hidden names. Fee she called 'Strength,' Ann was 'Song,' and I was 'Hope.'"

"What of the other, Gemma? The girl, Pippa. She died, yes?"

I take a shuddery breath, suddenly realizing that Kartik does not know. "Well – yes. Nell called her 'Beauty,' and warned, 'Beauty must die.' I did not understand, of course, since Pippa was already dead. But…she had not crossed over the river. Not permanently."

"She became corrupted," Kartik states flatly. "And she is now in the Winterlands, is she not?" At my nod, he sighs heavily. "I am sorry," he says softly.

"Do not be. It was not your fault." His mouth opens to say something else, and I spin away from his pitying expression. "Look! We have made it to the interior of the Garden!" I cry out. I turn towards him again and confide, "The most beautiful plants in all the Garden can only be found in here." I reach out and pluck a silver blossom from a ruby-red bush, offering it to him.

Kartik leans forward, burying his nose into the bloom to catch its elusive scent. I nearly laugh aloud, amused at how the petals cover most of his face, the flower is that large. My eyes wander over his features, drinking in the different sights: how his lashes rest on his cheekbones; how his breath shifts the leaves and petals; how his mouth curves into a half-smile.

Then his eyes open slowly, locking with mine, and he leans towards me. I am sure that he is about to kiss me – and I want him to. Then the moment shatters under the remembrance of the vow in my journal, and I break away, babbling inanely. "Oh, and these are also beautiful!" I pull a vibrantly sky blue blossom from a fire-coloured plant and breathe deeply. Then I look up to see Kartik holding a golden apple and bringing it to his lips.

"No!" I cry, leaping forward and knocking it from his hands. "Do _not_ eat anything from this world! If you do, you _stay_ here. **_Forever_**. Do you understand, Kartik?"

He nods, dumbfounded by the angry tone in my voice. Then he, too, becomes angry. "My thanks for the warning, Miss Doyle. But you will find that I can care for myself." Kartik spins on his heel and strides back towards the river path, disappearing among the foliage. I shake my head and follow him.

I emerge a few minutes later, to see Kartik staring up, open-mouthed. "What's the matter?" I ask crossly. "What are you looking at?" I, too, turn my gaze upwards, and I can feel a deep flush immediately creeping over my face. "Oh… Um, Kartik?" I do not wait for him to answer me, instead continuing quickly, "These are the Caves of Sighs."

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A/N: I am sure you all hate me immensely right now...and I don't care. "Bwahahahahahahahahahaha! Mine is an evil laugh!" Review, dear readers -- review! 


	5. Explanations, Warnings

All recognizable things belong to Libba Bray, that amazing woman who deigned to give us a glimpse into her mind. All else… Well, I suppose you could say it was mine. I would prefer you did not, though.

A/N: Yay! Another chapter! As always, I urge you to read and review. In addition, if you caught any mistake with the canon or my grammar, I'd love hearing about my imperfections.

_Last time:_ I, too, turn my gaze upwards, and I can feel a deep flush immediately creeping over my face. "Oh… Um, Kartik?" I do not wait for him to answer me, instead continuing quickly, "These are the Caves of Sighs."

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**In the Realms, Chapter Five**

After informing him of our location, I embarrassedly avert my gaze from the promiscuous figures to stare down at my boots through a recently appeared, strangely thick mist. It continues creeping up, dampening my skirts; I suspect that this fog is someone's way of warning me that they know I am here. Suddenly needing comfort, I conjure a butterfly from my nervous tension, watching it spin its way through the sky in jerky movements that perfectly illustrate my mindset. 

"How did you do that?" I jump, again startled by Kartik's unexpected closeness. He watches the butterfly wind its way towards his nose, and a smile touches at his mouth. "Is this the magick of the realms?" He reaches his hand out, the smile growing when the butterfly alights on it. Kartik looks up, and our eyes lock as they had in the Garden's interior. "Can you teach me?"

I open my mouth to reply when I hear a sweet voice calling behind me, "Who have you brought into our world?" I spin around, unconsciously conjuring a bow and quiver of arrows – Fee may be the most accomplished archer out of the New Order, but I have skill enough to keep myself safe. I can see Kartik tensing out of the corner of my eye, but he relaxes when the person steps out of the mist.

"Asha." I let my weaponry dissipate and bow, touching my hands to my forehead in the ancient gesture of goodwill, which Asha returns. Another person walks towards us, moving strangely in the dappled light. "Philon." I bow again and do not straighten until he has returned my greeting.

Philon nods at Kartik, who looks a bit shocked at the strange appearances of my companions. "Who have you brought to us, Priestess?" he asks in that _voice_ of his.

"Another of our New Order, Philon," I reply, finally comfortable with his presence. When I first met him, he had unsettled me, but that no longer. "His name is Kartik…," I hesitate, unsure whether to give him a title or a surname – truly, Kartik never gave me one. I know not what his proper name is.

"Lately of the Rakshana," Kartik finishes, no longer looking like a gasping fish. I hear footsteps behind me, and turn, with another bow in my hands.

Felicity and Ann burst out of the trees, laughing giddily. Ann wears a deep green dress that floats about her as she walks, and Fee has a crown of stars on her head. "Gemma, you naughty thing!" Fee calls to me. "Why didn't you tell us where you were going?" Suddenly, a squeak comes from Ann; she nudges Felicity and points up at the Caves of Sighs. A wicked grin curves Fee's lips, and she laughs. "Ah, I see – wanted to be alone with your Indian, eh?"

"Don't talk like that!" I snap indignantly, the New Order temporarily forgotten. This time, I will not let slander be piled upon Kartik merely because of who he is. He cannot help being an Indian any more than Fee can help being English. This time, I will defend Kartik. I ignore Fee's look of shock, as well as Kartik's deep-throated protests, and barrel on, "If you cannot see that Kartik is more than what you see, I pity you and the smallness of your ruffle-strewn brain!"

"Peace, Priestess," Asha murmurs, laying a hand on my brow. I relax at her touch, and sigh to myself. How I hate admitting that I am in the wrong. Nevertheless, I must; else, I endanger the New Order itself by dividing its loyalties.

"I didn't mean that, Fee," I finally admit. "I'm sorry." I look up at her from my toes, not lifting my head, but only moving my eyes. "Forgiven?"

"Yes, Gemma," Fee replies with a sniff. Clearly, I have been forgiven, but the insult has not been forgotten. Then she grins widely, bobbing into a curtsey. "Asha! Where have you been, dearest? And Philon! I thank you for teaching me how you created the enchanted arrows."

I can feel my mouth tighten. Fee shows such deep respect for these others of our Order, and yet can't see that Kartik is as good as she is – most likely better, since he's unafraid to get his hands dirty in defending what he believes is right.

Then I feel something damp at my hands and look down to see that the mist has reached my wrists. "Felicity, Ann – what do you think about this mist?"

Ann looks puzzled by my strange question. "What do you mean, Gemma?"

"What colour can you see in it?"

"Violet," Fee replies confusedly. Then my meaning dawns on her and she whispers, "Violet. Ivory. Ebony." She looks up at me, our quarrel forgotten in light of this…this phenomenon.

"You see what I see, don't you, Fee?"

Ann pouts. "It's not nice to talk about things that I don't know."

Even Kartik has noticed what I meant – most likely, because he never forgot what he saw that day at the lake. He remembers perfectly, as any normal man _would_; I'd bet my journal on it. "Gemma. It's her, isn't it?"

"I think so," I reply softly, fear lacing my voice. "But I'm not ready. I'm not."

"Not ready for what, Priestess?" Asha asks from her position to my right; Philon stands at my left, looking proud, wary, and strong.

I bite my lip anxiously. Finally, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd held. In a scratchy whisper through now-bloodless lips, I explain to Ann, Asha, and Philon what the rest of us have seen.

"It's Pippa. She's coming for us."

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A/N: Cue hatred. I know, I know -- I'm evil. Okay, I've gotten some requests, and I leave it up to you: faster updates with shorter chapters, or longer chapters with a longer waiting period? Whichever you choose, I will **_try_** to abide by it -- sometimes my muse leaves me high and dry though. Thanks for reading. Blessed be. 


	6. Preparation, Tests, Revelations

**Disclaimer**: All recognizable things belong to Libba Bray, that amazing woman who deigned to give us a glimpse into her mind. All else… Well, I suppose you could say it was mine. I would prefer you did not, though. 

**A/N**: I'll try this new form of chapter updating just for you, reviewers. I don't really know what you all consider "long chapters," so…we'll see how it goes. Read on, loyal readers; read on.

**_Refresher_**: "It's Pippa. She's coming for us."

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**In the Realms, Chapter Six**

A flurry of movement answers my words, with several different reactions. Felicity looks stunned, and sinks to the ground with her arrows at her side. Ann's face pales and she starts both chewing on her lower lip and nervously twisting her hair. For a moment, an unkind part of me thinks that she looks like an inmate of Bedlam. Philon rears back onto his hind legs, and Asha begins murmuring in a strange tongue. Only Kartik remains somewhat normal.

"What should I do?" he asks quietly, a rock in the midst of a stormy sea.

I laugh bitterly, the sound echoing hollowly in the clearing. "You wanted to learn how to control the magick of the Realms? Well, here's your chance. First off: weapons."

Asha sends me a worried look – I skipped over her portion of the training, which is how to be at one with the Realms, to know just how to use the magick. Philon is in charge of weaponry, the making and stabilising of. He steps forward to take charge.

"You called yourself Kartik. I am Philon, of the Forest folk, and I am in charge of weapons. I have taught your Priestess and the other members how to create weapons as needed, with the help of magick. Now I am to teach you. If you would come with me, please." Philon turns and walks towards the forest again, towards his home. Kartik looks at me briefly before following Philon. In that glance, I can see many emotions, though I see one above the others – worry.

He's _worried_ about me. It's sweet, but stifling at the same time. I must admit that I'm worried about his skill in the coming battle, though. I turn and see Fee giving Ann a quick refresher course in archery. Good; neither of them need me right now. I bite my lower lip for a moment, wavering in indecision, before looking at Asha.

She nods in understanding. "Come, Priestess."

I follow her, ready to begin my preparations.

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I sit calmly in the cave, one of Asha's counterparts gently painting my face, hands and arms. The designs on my face don't cover my skin, but draw attention to the fierce set of my mouth and the anger in my eyes. At least, this is what I see when I happen to glimpse myself in the water.

"We're nearly done, Priestess," Asha murmurs. "You must stop fidgeting."

"I'm sorry, Asha. It's just…," I trail off, unsure exactly how to explain why we are all so nervous.

"I remember, Priestess. You brought her with you one day, when the magick was loose."

"Yes," I whisper. I quickly change the subject, unwilling to dwell on the past. "Asha, will the others have this protection? Or am I the only one you will paint today, for this battle?"

Asha shakes her head. "No, Priestess. I have sent others of the Untouchables to where the others of the New Order train, to be painted in protection." Asha signs something to the woman drawing on my skin, and the brush stills. "You shall need one thing more, Priestess."

"What's that, Asha?" I stand and turn to face my friend, and instead meet another. "Gorgon!"

The figure smiles, the gesture sitting oddly against the scaly face and hissing hair. "Yessss, Most High? There is ssssomething you wish of me?"

"How… And, I… But, you… I don't understand." I put a hand to my head, fingers shaking. "How is it that you're free to walk? Are you no longer of the ship?"

"You releassssed me, Most High," the Gorgon reminds me. "You releassssed me from the bondage the passst Order had placed on me. I chose to remain a ship to sssserve you, but Asha hassss informed me of your plight." Her golden eyes bear into my green, and she bares her teeth in a snarl. "The one I hadn't trusted hassss returned. I have chosen to come and be of aid to you, Most High."

Flustered, I bow, pressing my hands to my forehead. "Well… thank you, Gorgon." Something occurs to me, and I tap a finger against my lips thoughtfully after rising. "Do you have a name, other than Gorgon?"

"I have not used it ssssince my people were destroyed, Most High. But I did have one."

"Would you mind if… if I used your name when I speak to you?"

Again, she smiles. "Of course I would not mind, Most High. My name is Min the Adept, Daughter of Medusa the Fierce, Sister of Minerva the Terrible, and Mother of Tor the Magickal."

I look up sharply, now that I have her full name and title. "Gorg – I mean, Min – you are the daughter of Medusa the Fierce? And you have a daughter?"

A sad sort of expression crosses Min's reptilian face. "All Gorgons call themselves Daughter of Medusa, just as you are a Daughter of Eve. And I did not have a daughter; I had a son," she explains quietly.

I look around for Asha, or another Untouchable, but they must have left while I was occupied with Min's history. Seeing no one, I continue, "I thought that all Gorgons were female."

Min snorts, an odd sound coming from such a solemn mythological creature. Even the snakes hiss in an amused rhythm. "If we were all female, then how could we have children, Most High?"

An embarrassed flush creeps over my features. "Oh. Yes, well. Erm… Anyway, you had a son, Min?"

"Yessss." Min bows her head, the snakes abruptly silent. "Until the passsst Order came to take their revenge for our rebellion. Tor tried to protect our ssssettlement with his giftssss, but the Order had bound the magick for themselves. Tor couldn't get to the power, and was the firsssst murdered, for daring to harnessss the Realms for usss." A single, steaming tear drips down her cheek, and she again snarls. "And I was the only left alive, as an example to the other tribes. Until you came."

"Min… I'm so sorry. I never knew." I hesitantly reach out and touch her arm. "I can't help your past, Min. You know that, don't you?"

"What'ssss done issss done," she returns. "My people lived their allotted lifetime; nothing more can I asssk."

I feel a tug at my hold on the magick, and I half-turn. "Min, are you ready to meet the others?" I ask quietly. "Because Felicity is calling me, telling me that they're ready for me to return. They have been painted and… Oh! Min, do you need to be painted?" I blurt out.

"As a Gorgon, I do not, Most High," she replies. It's odd, but the more she speaks, the fewer hisses she makes. Perhaps the Gorgons didn't originally look and act reptilian, but were more humanoid than the illustrations we have of them. Of course, most people don't believe the Gorgons ever existed. Then Min's voice jerks me from my reverie. "And yesss, I am ready to join the otherss."

"Good. Hang on." I turn and will my voice to reach Asha, wherever she may be. "Asha, Min and I are going to meet the others of the Order in the clearing. We will see you there." I faintly hear her reply and gesture for Min to take my hand. She does, though not without a look of confusion. "We're going fastest way possible," I explain.

I close my eyes and will the magick to form around us. Asha taught me the best way to control the magick –not to ask for it, but almost literally to create it. I must be able to see, feel, taste, smell, and even hear the magick for it to do as I ask. Once a wall has cocooned us, I picture it appearing in the clearing. When I again open my eyes and let my hearing return, the New Order stands around us.

"Ohhh!" Ann leaps up with a dazzling smile. "Gorgon! You've been released from the ship, have you?" Then, remembering her manners, she bobs a half-curtsey before bowing in the Realms' way.

"Yes, youngling," Min returns, no hint of her previous hissing left to her voice. "I have left my post on the ship to come aid the Most High. And I have regained my name." Before Ann can ask, she supplies it. "I am called Min the Adept, Daughter of Medusa the Fierce, Sister of Minerva the Terrible, and Mother of Tor the Magickal."

Fee also expresses delight that Min has reclaimed her body and her name. "I have heard that the Gorgons were quite fierce in battle. What do you use for weapons?" she asks interestedly.

"We are naturally lethal, in our own right. The snakes never sleep, and I rarely," Min explains. "My skin is hard enough that man-made weapons cannot draw blood." Then she draws an arrow out from a quiver that I hadn't noticed on her back. "The arrows that my people and I carved had points sharper than a serpent's tooth, and infinitely sharper than the human's weapons." Min sharply scrapes it over her arm. I hear the skin part and smell a sharp, stinging odour as her blood bubbles up. "Beneath our skin lies our _true_ weapon – our blood."

Min offers the arrow to Felicity. Fee accepts it and nocks it to her bow. She creates a rabbit from the magick, and takes careful aim. The moment the arrow pierces the rabbit's hide, it falls to the ground, dead.

"Poison," Min announces. "My blood is poison and deadly. A drop of it can burn through a stone. When I douse an arrow's tip in it, that arrow becomes an instant killer. As you saw, small creatures have no chance; larger creatures – humanoid things or nymphs, whether they exist in the Realms or in your world, Most High – face excruciating pain. They eventually die from it, or go insane." She raises her arm, displaying it for us to see. "Finally, almost all wounds sustained in battle heal within a few minutes. Useful in a weaponry fight, but not against magick." She smiles fiercely. "But now I have a share in the magick. May our foes tremble before me."

I hear a strangled sound come from my right and I look over. I see Kartik, trying desperately to breathe through the shock and fear of seeing the natural ferocity of a Gorgon.

"How… How did you meet this person, Gemma?" he rasps out finally.

Min hears him and turns toward him. "The Most High met me when I offered to carry her down the river. The Archer and the Charmer came as well, as did the Deceiver." She frowns in thought. "You did not come, though. You are a new one, then."

"Archer? Charmer? Deceiver? Of whom does she speak, Gemma?" Kartik asks. "And how did she carry four women on her back downriver?"

"The new one asks many questions," Min observes.

I hide a smile. "Like you said, he's new. Since he doesn't know much, he asks to learn," I tell Min. Then I explain to Kartik, "Fee's the Archer." She lets fly an arrow, cleaving a sapling in two. "Ann's the Charmer." Her voice floats towards the tree, healing it and making it grow. "And Pippa was the Deceiver." We three girls silently bow our heads in memory of more innocent times.

"Oh God!" Fee yelps. "Pippa! She's coming. Shouldn't we be… training or something?"

Philon, who had been calmly making more swords and bows all this while, shakes his head. "You would do better, Strong One, to relax and listen to stories. Training will only draw on your reserves of energy and magick, weakening you for the true battle." Fee, mollified, nods and keeps listening to the rest of us.

"As for carrying us," Ann clarifies, "she was a ship. We sailed on her."

Kartik looks at me from the corner of his eye. "She was a ship?"

I sigh and shake my head. "It's a long story, Kartik. I'll tell it _after_ we win. And, speaking of battles…" I give Ann and Fee a once-over. "Where are the protection designs that Asha promised?" I ask.

"We have them," Ann assures me while Fee closes her eyes in obvious concentration. After a moment or so, intricate designs curve over her skin, redrawing themselves in swooping arcs, dipping curlicues, and slashing lines. "This time, Asha says that it won't appear until we need it. We can force it if we want, like Fee just did, but it takes a lot out of the magick. Might not for you though."

I shake my head. "It doesn't matter. There's no point to forcing it to appear when I don't need protection."

Kartik narrows his eyes at me; I can feel his gaze on my back. "I need to speak with you for a moment, Gemma. _Alone_," he emphasizes, stilling Min and Asha in their steps.

"Fine, Kartik."

We walk into the Forest, Kartik leading the way. I notice that he steps with confidence, as though he already knows the path. This pleases me; he shouldn't have a problem adapting to the Realms, nor in using the magick. We again reach the interior of the Garden, and I smile.

"I thought you'd be most comfortable here," Kartik tells me.

I'm about to answer, but I remember his urgency in wanting to talk away from the others. "What's wrong, Kartik? Has anything gone wrong in your preparations?" I raise my hands, ready to call on the magick. "Do you want me to conjure something for you to wear or carry to the battleground?"

"No," he quickly answers. "It's part of my preparations, Gemma. Philon told me that battles don't always go as planned. We could be defeated, he told me." Kartik ducks his head down, staring at his boots – the same gesture I made not so long ago.

"Well, yes," I admit. "Pippa could win. She might have made a sacrifice to a strong spirit, or she might have had a sacrifice made to herself. She might even kill me; and, I'm assuming that, when I die, all the magick will be released back into the Realms."

Kartik sighs softly. "Oh," he murmurs. He looks over at me through his lashes. "Well then. Philon was right."

"About what?"

"Gemma – we might die today, in this battle." Oh God – he's coming closer. "I don't want to leave anything undone." Oh God, he's close enough to touch me. "You can slap me afterwards, but I have to do this…" He's going to kiss me. And he's right; if we're to die, I don't want to die without telling him…

"Gemma!" I hear a shout from behind me. I spin around, looking for the person calling me. A gasp flies from my mouth.

"Kartik?" I stammer. My gaze darts between the Kartik I came here with, and the Kartik that just arrived. "And… Kartik? What's going on?"

The newcomer bends over, hands on his knees, panting. "Don't… get… too close!" he manages. "That's an impostor!"

I bite my lip. One of these is Pippa – I know. Or one of her soldiers, minions, etc. And if I choose wrongly, it could mean the difference between life and death for the New Order. To think that this is only the first time that the entire Order has been together!

"Kartik." They both look up, waiting for me. I hope they don't notice the glassiness of my eyes as I summon the magick. "I have a question to ask." Got it! The magick swirls around my ankles like a faithful pet and crackles in my ears. "Where did you live…," I start slowly, mentally choosing one of the two. "…when I was engaged to Percival Faber."

A quick look of confusion is stifled; the other let free. I have chosen correctly, I think. I drop the magick down over the fake, watching as Kartik's black curls, dark skin and eyes, and his clothing fade to another's. Long black hair, pale skin, and violet eyes gleam at me in the shadows. Then Pippa – or her minion impersonating her – waves an arm, disappearing completely. I break down, sobbing.

"Gemma!" Kartik cries out, rushing forward. I let him take me into his arms, glad that he's there. "Gemma, what happened? Philon and I didn't get Miss Worthington's summons in time. When we got to the clearing finally, another Philon was locked in battle with a green-haired woman. Actually" – he shuddered – "I think her hair was live snakes."

My tears dry, but I don't pull away from the embrace. I don't want to break the moment. "That's the Gorgon. Her name is Min the Adept."

"Gorgon? Like in the myths of Perseus?"

"Yes…" I look up at him, wiping away my tearstains with the back of my hand. "Kartik. When the other you was here, it said" – I take a deep breath – "that Philon had advised it not to let things go undone, or unsaid." I bite my lip nervously. "Did the real Philon tell you that, too?"

His brows furrow. "Yes. But what was this, if not a battle? Didn't we win?"

I laugh bitterly. "It was a test. Pippa was testing my cleverness and my hold on the magick. But – there's nothing that you want to do or say before the real battle?" Kartik takes a breath and lets it out slowly. It ruffles my loose hair and tickles my skin, but I don't laugh. This is much too serious for that. I'm probing, yes, but… if I've finally admitted it to myself, then why not to him? It's nothing to be ashamed of.

"Well, there is something I want to do before I die," Kartik acknowledges. He bites at the corner of his mouth anxiously. "Don't get angry, Gemma."

"I won't," I promise breathlessly.

He dips his head down and gently kisses me. My eyes slip closed and I twine my arms around his neck, barely noticing that he has my waist in a rather tight grip. For a few moments, it's just us – no impending deaths, no trouble, no fear, and no shame. When he draws away, I don't let go of him, keeping us in the embrace.

"Will you dance with me?" Kartik asks softly. I feel dizzy – all this is happening so quickly – but I agree. He slides his hand to the small of my back and takes my hand in the other. He draws me close to himself, and this time I don't back away.

"The last time we danced," he tells me with a hint of a smile, "you wouldn't listen to me. Will you listen now?"

I smile back. "Yes, Kartik – of course I'll listen to you."

He leans over and whispers softly, "Gemma Doyle, I think I might love you…"

My green eyes catch and hold his brown ones. "I think I might love you, too."

* * *

The shapeshifter travels over the Winterlands at a speed incomprehensible. It flies into a castle built of boulder and bone, where the Winter Queen reigns. 

"My liege," he says, once he has returned to a humanoid form. "You were right. The so-called 'Most High' has the weakness you suggested." He kisses the outstretched hand and vows, "We shall not fail, Mistress."

"See to it that we don't," Queen Pippa returns coldly, withdrawing her hand. "Or else it shall go badly for you, Agerthan."

**

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A/N:** Okay readers; are you happy now? I gave you a long chapter, Kartik/Gemma fluffiness, and some actual plot furthering. Now will you _please_ leave me some more of those lovely reviews that I so adore receiving? Blessed be.


	7. Moment's Reprieve

**Disclaimer**: All recognizable things belong to Libba Bray, that amazing woman who deigned to give us a glimpse into her mind. All else… Well, I suppose you could say it was mine. I would prefer you didn't, though.

**A/N**: I'm sorry about the hiatus and abominably shortness of this chapter, reviewers, but my muse and teachers were (are) conspiring against me. I'm updating to celebrate the turning in of term paper, though! Yay! Unfortunately, this is one of those nothing chapters that I'll occasionally need to get back into the action, so a sort of un-yay. Also, I wrote when I was slightly, um, brain dead; forgive me, please! Anyway: enjoy the update, short as it is.

**_Refresher_**: "See to it that we don't (fail)," Queen Pippa returns coldly, withdrawing her hand. "Or else it shall go badly for you, Agerthan."

* * *

**In the Realms, Chapter Seven**

Kartik and I walk back to the Training Ground hand in hand, though it isn't, by any means, a lover's walk. We hurry as quickly as we can without magick – if I weren't wary of depleting my reserves prior to the battle, I would be flying right now. My legs are so shaky; Kartik supports more of my weight than I do.

The moment we enter the clearing, the others of our Order – even stoic Philon – dash over to us. Their voices rise and fall, fighting to be heard. The first that I actually understand is Min.

"Most High, are you quite all right?" she demands, one arrow pointed directly at Kartik.

"Y-yes," I reply, startled. "Min, is this about the second Kartik?" Her luminous yellow eyes regard me suspiciously, but she nods. "Don't worry about him. Uh, her. It? Anyway, it won't bother us for a while."

"So you wounded it?" Fee asks seriously, her bow only half-lowered.

"Well, not exactly…," I start.

"Did it hurt you, Gemma?" Ann questions. "The second Philon became so many different things as we fought it. We'd kill one, but then another would take its place. Philon of the Forest finally managed to kill it by keeping an enchanted sword in the beast's breast, no matter the form it took."

Kartik makes a small noise of understanding. "Like the Greek god Proteus," he murmurs. I look up at him, wondering to myself just where he learned all of these fantastic stories. One day, I'll ask him. For now, I content myself with squeezing his hand lightly, letting him know that I'm here.

Asha breaks in, "This was meant as a test for us, Lady Hope. To see how well we could identify a spy, I'd wager. And since the other one got away, its mistress will soon know of our plans."

Philon replies flatly, "Not much she will." We all turn and stare at this strange creature, not understanding. "I suspected something like this would happen. Almost everything I said today about battle was true. Except for this – our magick will not be depleted by practicing. If anything, we will become stronger."

"Are you sure?" Fee interrupts. Her hands hold the bow loosely, but I know Fee well; she is quite prepared to defend our Order and attack anyone she deems an enemy. Oh, I know that didn't make sense. My thoughts are in such a whirl. The test given by the shapeshifter has left my mind confused, unsure whom I can trust outside of the Order – and maybe inside the Order, too. Felicity repeats her question, jerking my mind back to the present.

"Quite sure," Asha replies. "Practice will strengthen you. The magick will learn how to respond to threats more easily, and it will be prepared."

Ann's brow furrows. "You speak as though the magick is an ally." She realizes her mistake before any of us point it out to her, and Ann quickly modifies her statement. "I meant that Asha speaks as though the magick were alive, an entity like Philon or Min."

"Isn't it?" Asha asks mildly, and I stare at her in disbelief. My thoughts, moments ago in a jumble, have suddenly coalesced into a more sensible format.

"Do you mean to say," I ask slowly, "that the magick of the Realms is… a person?"

Asha laughs lightly and shakes her head. "No, Lady. I merely meant that the magick has a will of its own. Otherwise, why should it accept Kartik when it rejected the others of the previous Order? What about the men of the Eastern Star? The magick of the Realms knows who deserves its secrets, Lady. Why do you think that I warned you of its contrariness before you brought him here?" Asha nods at Kartik, who looks amazed at our conversation.

Ann nods in understanding and she exchanges a glance with Fee. "So what Miss Mo – I mean, Sarah – was saying is that the Realms _do_ choose its members. When she began losing her powers, the Realms had truly done so – not the Order, as she had thought."

Asha nods, but doesn't say anything. All of us look around at each other, wondering what to do now. We have been tested, and have passed. All that is left to us now, is to wait. Felicity shrugs her shoulder, bringing her quiver down to her hand.

"I guess that's it, then. While we wait, we practice. Gemma, would you care to use my bow while I work with Ann? We want to see how much of the meditation we can do while we wait."

I accept the arsenal from Fee's outstretched hand graciously. "Thanks, Fee." She inclines her head in a gesture of acceptance and hurries over to Ann. For a few moments, I watch the two of them settle onto the ground with Asha to meditate. When I tire of that, I turn to watch Philon as he creates another dagger from the Realm's magick. Finally, when I can no longer avoid it, I look over at Kartik. He looks slightly uncomfortable with all this battle preparation, and I feel that I must speak. "What's the matter?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing, Miss Doyle."

My green eyes narrow. "Miss Doyle, hmm? You only call me that when you want to hide something. Out with it – what's the matter?"

"Miss Doy – that is, Gemma. I… am afraid," he admits quietly. Kartik lifts a hand to ruffle his hair back away from his eyes, and I see a small tattoo on his right wrist that I haven't noticed before. The eye and triangle of my pendant are on his skin in ink, but the iris of the eye is a star. Kartik continues, "My brother faced a creature of the Winterlands for your mother, and lost. I don't want to lose my life as well."

I don't really hear him as he tells me this, which I suppose is callous and rude of me. But my attention has been gripped by that single mark, and I touch a fingertip to it lightly. "What is this, Kartik?"

Kartik pauses and glances down at his wrist. "The mark of the Rakshana, the men of the Eastern Star."

"It looks like the amulet that my mother left for me – the symbol of the old Order."

"Really." He sounds unsurprised. I stare at him, willing him to explain. He flags under my gaze, giving into my silent request. "It makes sense, when you think about it. The Rakshana learned of this place because of the old Order, yes?" I nod. "Then it makes sense that the men of the Eastern Star would have adopted a form of the Order's symbol, maybe even in hopes that the Realms would let them enter."

I tap a finger thoughtfully against my lips. "How true." I let my hands drop from my face and nervously fiddle with the end of my cloak. "Kartik, will you come back to the Garden with me?"

"Yes, Gemma, of course. But why?"

"I'll explain when we get there." I offer my hand out, and Kartik takes it. Our fingers curl around each other gently and we start walking down the path to the Garden.

It doesn't take more than a few minutes for us to reach our destination. Once we're there, I let go of Kartik's hand and wrap my arms around myself, suddenly cold. The Realms shift and change around us in answer to my sudden shift of emotion. Kartik looks up at the thunderheads gathering above us, then glances to the side, where clear blue sky lingers.

"What's the matter, Gemma?" He steps towards me, worry softening the set of his jaw.

"I'm worried, Kartik. I feel so _helpless_, just waiting for Pippa to attack." Unbidden, tears well up in my eyes. "She was my friend."

"Gemma…"

"I need you to promise me something."

Kartik rakes his hands through his hair, frustrated. "All right, but will you tell me…?"

"Yes. But promise me that you _will not_ let me become corrupted."

He blinks in confusion. "Gemma, what are you saying?"

I take a deep breath and haltingly explain, "I think that this battle with Pippa will prove… fatal."

Kartik stares at me. "You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do, Kartik. When I battle Pippa, one of us won't make it out alive. I can feel it." At that moment, my summoned thunderheads shatter above us, sending a warm rain down onto our heads. The rain masks my tears, for which I'm thankful. "I think I might be the one to die."

Kartik grabs my hand, pulling me close. "Gemma, don't say that." He lets go of my hand, resting one of his on my waist, the other at my jaw. He lifts my chin, making me meet his gaze, look at him. The rain has made his lashes spiked, and his curls have become matted to his skull. Kartik leans down, pleading in his expression. "Please don't say that." I stare at him, and am surprised to see that he has _tears_ in his eyes.

"Kartik," I begin in a low voice. "Has Asha told you about…?"

"Gemma, those aren't visions or premonitions you feel," he insists. "You're supposed to be Lady Hope – so be hopeful! You are not the one charged with sifting through the Realms' intentions."

"And you are?"

He looks away, dropping his hands from me. I feel cold. "Asha told me that we each have a part to play, where the Realms are concerned. I don't know that I will be the Vision. But I know that you already have your role, as Lady Hope. Play your part, Gemma – and I'll play mine, whatever it is."

I blink, trying to stem the flow of tears. "When did she tell you this?"

"She didn't, actually. But she had instructed one of the Untouchables to tell me, while they painted us." He runs a hand through sodden hair, shoving it away from his eyes. "Gemma, Pippa will try to use our gifts against us. She'll make you feel hopeless, Ann like she's worthless, and Felicity like she's weak."

"So you're saying that Pippa will use the attacks of the Poppy Warriors against us."

"The who?" Kartik asks, puzzled.

"Never mind." I will the storm to cease, and the rain slowly stops. "So, Kartik – do you think that you have trained long enough with Philon to best me with bow and arrow?" As I speak, my weapons appear in my hands. I have conjured my favourite bow of ebony wood, with silverleaf runes.

Kartik smiles, glad that I have stopped sounding so defeatist, and summons. I may not say it, but I am glad that he has convinced me to let it go. Kartik is most likely right; this is probably one of Pippa's attacks. Yet I still feel that this battle will result in a death – and I am certain that if it is one of the New Order, it will be me.

**

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A/N**: Please, if you dislike my story or style, all I ask is that you give feedback that proves that you've read the story. If you criticize my grammar, use the basic rules of grammar in the review. It irks me when someone tries to reprimand me, and they can't use the proper punctuation in the review. And, as to the spelling of magic/magick – I refer to "magic" as magicians do, manipulations of eye and hand. "Magick" is the stuff of the realms, the true Power of the New Order.  
That may have sounded snippy, and I'm sorry that I'm so tired and taking it out on you guys. But, all in all, my reviews have been _wonderful_ – thank you so much. Over fifty reviews! I feel so honoured. And, as a closing: sorry if this sounded weird and I hate leaving long author notes, but I needed to say all of this. Blessed be.


	8. Attempting Normalcy

**Disclaimer**: All recognizable things belong to Libba Bray, that amazing woman who deigned to give us a glimpse into her mind. All else… Well, I suppose you could say it was mine. I would prefer you didn't, though.

**A/N**: Muses and teachers conspired against me, dear readers. Writer's block sucks, as do end-of-year exams. And, to circumvent this question (I doubt anyone has asked it, but I'm erring on the side of caution), I will _not ever_ set a number of reviews before posting; that's stupid. If I go back on my word, all you readers can…do something bad to me! Anyway, enjoy the update, late as it is.

**_Refresher_**: I still feel that this battle will result in a death – and I am certain that if it is one of the New Order, it will be me.

**

* * *

In the Realms, Chapter Eight**

Kartik and I rejoin the New Order after a little target practice. He isn't bad at archery; in fact, I'm willing to bet he let me win. Probably so that I'd stop feeling so pessimistic about my skills with both magick and weaponry. I look around the clearing, frowning; I'm not sure what Pippa and her new "friends" have done to track us, and I feel too overexposed out here.

"Asha, is there a way to build a barrier around us?" I ask as I walk into the clearing. I can sense Kartik tense next to me and glance out the corner of my eye at him; he looks as though he's thinking very intently.

"It depends, Lady – what do you mean by _barrier_?" She stands up gracefully, natural poise belying her misshapen legs. Ann and Fee, looking serene and composed, also stand up.

I gesture them all closer. Philon, looking slightly put out, puts down the shimmering spear he'd been working on, and canters over to join us. Min also glides over, a wound in her arm healing as she comes; I assume that she has been arming her arrows with her blood. We all huddle together, but I don't want to take chances.

"Not a wall, but something that will keep malevolent spirits from us. Or even something that lets them in, but doesn't let them see us," I explain softly.

My words surprise my friends, and I can tell that they have all begun to ponder my words. All of us have our own unique ways of thinking, and I watch my comrades in their contemplation. Fee bites her lip in thought and holds her hands out to the air; a knife and stone appears in her grasp, and she begins sharpening the blade, the stone making a rhythmic scraping sound that is soothing to her mind. Ann's humming to herself, a sure sign that she's deep in thought. Philon is staring at a bubble of magick, making it shift and bend into little animated dolls – his way of amusing himself during thought, I suppose. Asha's eyes are closed in meditation, but Kartik has a fierce look of determination.

"You want a cloak," he says abruptly. I look at him in surprise. "A cloak of invisibility for us."

"Um, that would… Actually, yes." I share a glance with Fee and Ann, both of whom look as startled as I feel. "But I don't understand…"

Kartik smiles at me and lightly presses his fingers to my wrist. It's a small gesture, unseen by the others, but it gives me a sense of how similarly our minds work. "I know about Gorgons because of the myths of Perseus. It is told that Perseus took with him gifts of the gods to battle the Gorgon, Medusa. One of these included a cloak of invisibility."

Min looks sharply at him when he mentions the ancient Gorgon, but I don't worry. If something's wrong, then she'll tell me. "How do you know the stories of my ancestor, child?"

Since I'm wondering the same thing, I don't bother to intercede. Kartik glances at me; when he sees that I won't be an ally in evading the question, he sighs resignedly.

"I learned how to read from my brother, Amar," he says softly, eyes firmly on the ground. "He learned from the men of the Eastern Star. The Rakshana didn't want a member who was uneducated, yet needed a native of India to shadow Mrs. Doyle." My throat tightens at this mention of my mother, and Kartik's eyes flick over to me as though he can hear my silent gasp. "Before Amar took the assignment, he was required to take a reading test. To help himself learn, he taught me; the best way to learn something is to teach it to someone else."

His soft voice washes over me, and I find myself swept away by Kartik's story. As he speaks, his words weave into a broad tapestry of a tale, which has me enthralled. My imagination runs away with me, illustrating Kartik's account with images in my mind's eye. I can see a younger version of Kartik kneeling at his brother's side as the older boy draws letters into the dirt, explaining what each one means. The older Kartik became, the more he grew to love reading.

"Before Amar left home on that last day" – Kartik's voice breaks on _day_ – "he gifted me with a bound copy of Homer's The Odyssey." I bite my lip when he says this, suddenly realizing that Kartik is referring to the book that he always carries with him. I glance down at my boots, a rush of shame overcoming me as I remember my jealousy over the time Kartik spent with our scullery maid, Emily, when he was merely teaching her to read.

Kartik continues his explanation of how he learned of Medusa, saying that The Odyssey got him interested in the ancient myths of Greece. By this time, only Min and I remain standing with him, the others having long since drifted away, either bored or tired of standing. Kartik tells us that he used to sneak into bookshops when he was supposed to be shadowing me, stealing precious moments of time to read. He learned of Perseus, Heracles, Jason and the Argonauts, Ares, Theseus, Cupid and Psyche, of Gaia, Hektor, Diana, Thetis, Icaras… and Medusa.

When at last his story ceases, I become aware of an irritating buzzing feeling in my legs. My legs, being locked in one position for so long, have fallen asleep in the time that it took for Kartik to tell his story. I shift my weight painfully, wincing at the needles shooting through my nerve endings. I hear Min thanking Kartik for his story in her dry, gravely voice as the feeling slowly returns to my limbs. Then she glides away, leaving me alone with Kartik.

Fee is helping Philon set up targets, presumably for more practice. Ann and Asha are sitting, facing each other, talking in low voices about the magick of the Realms. If I strain, I can hear their words – something about how the magick will work for the New Order, how it will aid against Pippa. Min has moved a few feet away from Kartik and me, her eyes on the setting sun. I study her face in the light of the blood-red sun, noticing one thing above all others: sadness. I can tell that Min liked hearing about her ancient ancestor, but it has also reminded her of what she lost when the previous Order had hold of the magick. She's remembering her son; I wish I could have met him.

I slowly sink to the ground, inching back to lean against a tree. Feeling hasn't completely returned to my legs just yet, but I can handle the discomfort for now. Kartik watches the darkening sky, hands thrust deep in his pockets. When he finally speaks, I almost miss it for the softness of his voice.

"What was that?" I ask.

Kartik turns towards me, repeating, "I didn't realize that the Realms observe the passage of time."

I shift my back against the bark of the tree, inexplicably uncomfortable. "I didn't know either," I admit. "I've never spent this much time in the Realms before." As if my voice were a signal, Kartik wordlessly comes to sit next to me. He leans back on his elbows, gaze on the sky above us, as though waiting for the stars to appear. I watch him out of the corner of my eye, waiting for him to say something else.

"Do you know what sign you were born under, Gemma?" Kartik asks abruptly, startling me out of a daydream.

"Sign? What do you mean?"

He gestures with his right hand as he speaks, and my eyes follow the motion. "When I was in the Gypsy camp, I spent some time with the matriarch, the leader of the clan. She knew many things: how to read palms, give card readings, and how to read the stars for navigation." Night has fallen so quickly that Kartik is no more than a dark-skinned silhouette at my side, but I still don't look away. "She also knew how to look back at which stars were present at one's birth." I can hear a smile in his voice as he says, "She claimed that I was an earth sign, and that only a fire sign would bring me happiness."

My mouth has suddenly gone dry, and I cough a couple of times before asking, "What… Did she ever discuss my friends or me, when we were in your camp?"

Kartik sits up and scoots back to sit directly next to me. "She told me that Pippa was an air sign. Felicity was water. And Ann was earth, like me."

I know where this is going. It seems so pathetic that my heart is beating so much faster with all this talk of "star signs," but I can't help my pulse. I swallow and fiddle with the hem of my cloak. The temperature has fallen along with the night, and I'm glad that I kept the heavy cloak on all day. "What did she say _I_ was?"

He leans closer, a throaty chuckle ruffling my hair. "Gemma, you're smarter than that." He's about to kiss me. I can tell!

At the last possible second, Kartik moves slightly, pressing a kiss to my cheek rather than my mouth. "Come on." He stands up, offering his hand to me. I take his hand, and he pulls me up to stand next to him. "We should go talk to the others about that barrier again."

"Most High."

I turn around, startled. I reluctantly let go of Kartik's hand and I squint through the darkness. Of course I know that it's Min, but I still like to _see_ my comrades. "Yes, what is it, Min?" I ask, brows furrowing slightly at the interruption.

She glides over to my side and says, "You and the New One should come join us in our circle. The Untouchable, Asha, believes that she has found a way for us to create a shield around the encampment."

Kartik nods. "This is indeed good news. Lead on, please."

Min gestures for us to follow her. In the little time that Kartik and I took to talk, the rest of the New Order has moved further into the centre of the clearing. It doesn't seem to be the safest place, but I suppose that anywhere is just as good once we get the shield around us, to protect us as we sleep. The others of the New Order sit in a semi-circle around a small fire. Kartik leans over and whispers to me, "They've built it for maximum output of heat, rather than light or noise. Someone in the New Order is a woodsman."

Asha stands up as we approach and waits to meet us. "Priestess, Philon, Min, and I have been discussing the best way to put your idea into action. Min thinks that if we all draw on the magick, it will be possible."

"What do you mean?" I ask. I feel very confused; of course we will need to use magick. I wasn't intending to build a shield from stone and sticks.

Philon answers, "If the entirety of the New Order is at one with this request, perhaps the magick will deign to protect us. Part of the weakness of the past Order came from their being at odds with one another. If we can, we should try to show the Realms that we deserve to be protected, because we intend to protect them from harm."

Ann, still sitting, brightens. "That's a wonderful idea! That's what triggered the break between…" She glances over at me before continuing in a hesitant voice, "Sarah and Mary." Oh, sweet girl; she deliberately used their real names to distance the personal relationships that I have had with both Order members.

Fee breaks in, "All right, then – if we're going to do it, then we should do it as soon as possible. We don't know where Pippa is, or what she intends to do."

I can feel Kartik at my side, warm and reassuringly there. I glance up at him, seeking some form of comfort; I find it in his gaze, firmly on mine. Then I nod. "Yes, you're right, Fee. Let's go, everyone; let's try to get this shield up so that we can get some sleep."

Philon blinks solemnly and says, "Very well then. Come. We shall create a circle."

Following the guidance of both Philon and Asha, the seven of us come to form a rough outline of a circle around the fire. I stand at the northernmost side, with Kartik to my right and Min at my left. Our order, starting from Kartik, goes as follows: Kartik, Asha, Ann, Philon, Felicity, Min, and me. At Asha's signal, we lift our arms, extending them out to our neighbours. Our hands do not touch, but our fingertips hover near each other to form a rudimentary triangle. Everyone looks to me expectantly, but I don't feel ready. Yet, as the embodiment of the magick, I have no other choice.

"Most High," Min suddenly hisses. "We must be as one on this."

I bite my lip. "Everyone, just… focus on protection. If the Realms protect us, then we can protect them." I get no real answer from everyone, but the very _air_ around us suddenly has a heavier, more solemn feel. I look up at the night sky, scattered with its unrecognizable constellations, and take a deep breath.

"We implore you, magick of the Realms, to come and surround us. Imbibe us with your strength and wisdom, and keep us safe in your arms. Be our shield, that we might wake in the morning to do what we must." I can feel something – like sharp tingles of static electricity – starting to surround us. My mind goes back to Asha's lessons of control, and I continue. "Be our barrier against our enemies; give us protection so that we might feel secure. Let us see our enemies while remaining unseen. Give us the chance to taste freedom once more. Give us this gift, and we will repay you…"

My voice trails off. I can feel it. The magick has no more need of incantations or summonings, because it is here, all around us. The fire is leaping higher, yet the air seems cooler. For a brief moment, I feel something on my tongue – rough texture, cool temperature, and weighty as a stone. Then light flares in my vision, and I can no longer see. I break the chain of energy to rub at my eyes, but it's all right; the magick has done as we asked. I abruptly freeze, confused by what I'm seeing flashing in the light. Just random images – a haphazardly built stone tower, a raging blizzard, a person with blue-tinged skin standing next to a shadow. None of it makes sense.

When I can finally see again, Kartik is kneeling next to me.

"Gemma," he starts, concern roughening his voice. "Gemma, what happened?" Then, anticipating my question, he tells me, "The ritual was successfull, there's definitely something around us to protect us, but you fainted. Are you all right?"

I slowly put a hand to my head. Kartik reaches out for me and takes my hand, pulling me into a sitting position. "How long," I began to ask, my tongue feeling very thick in my mouth, "was my fainting spell?"

The worry doesn't leave his gaze, but Kartik lets go of my hand for the time being. He sits back on his heels, blindly reaching behind him, and then he hands me a small canteen of water. I take it and suck greedily; even I am surprised by how thirsty I am. When I finally slow in my drinking, Kartik answers my question.

"It was maybe five minutes, Gemma, but you were making very odd noises." He glances up at me through his eyelashes, teeth worrying at the corner of his lower lip. "The expressions on your face alternated between confused and frightened. And then… you began whimpering like a wolf pup in a cage." Kartik looks down at his hands. "Ann, Felicity, and I wanted to wake you, but Asha advised against it."

"Where…" My voice cracks. I clear my throat and try again. "Where _are_ the others?" When Kartik doesn't answer immediately, I shift sideways slightly to peer around Kartik. All I can see is the inky blackness of the forest, and I can feel the heat of the fire at my back; what an idiot I've been. They're behind me. I start to stand, but dizziness suddenly overcomes me. I sway dangerously, but Kartik stands up in time to catch me. I stumble back into his embrace, my back against his chest. I look up at him, my chest absurdly tight. I can feel his heart, beating against my spine. "Thank you."

"I couldn't very well let you fall, could I?" Kartik lets me go, stepping back from me.

I don't like it, not having him at my back. I bite my lower lip, unsure what to say or do. Then someone shouting my name distracts me, and I look up. I glimpse blonde hair flying towards me, and then Fee is hugging me very tightly. I shove my Kartik-induced confusion aside for the moment, since I have a Felicity Worthington currently crushing my lungs.

"I'm perfectly fine, Fee," I manage to say in a strangled voice. "Now please… let go."

She gives me one last squeeze, then steps away, hands smoothing her skirt demurely. "You had us worried, Gemma," Fee tells me, her grey eyes studying my face.

I can't come up with anything to say to this. After a long pause, I offer, "I apologize?"

Ann, less exuberant but no less relieved, steps up to me. "Are you all right, Gemma?" she asks quietly. I… can hear something different in her voice. I turn my head slightly to look at her, _really_ look at her. The old Ann Bradshaw, she of the self-pity and whining, is gone. The Ann standing next to me does not have running nose or eyes or an expression of a much-kicked puppy. She stands straight, feet planted in a confident stance. When Ann repeats her question, I tear myself from my inner dialogue.

"I am now, Ann." I smile very slightly. I squint a little, looking for Min, Philon, and Asha. They are a few metres away from our little group, on the other side of the fire. I am suddenly very conscious of the difference – humans, those who can escape the Realms, and the unearthly creatures who may never leave.

"Where in the _world_ are we going to sleep?" I hear Fee demanding of the air. "I, for one, do _not_ intend to sleep on the ground."

Ann looks at her, laughter in her eyes. "Then do you have a better idea, my lady?"

Oh no. I can see the anger welling up in Felicity's face. If I don't stop this now, there will be a quarrel, and both my friends will be in a snit. Hoping to avoid such pettiness, I cut in quickly, "Tents!"

Ann tears her gaze away from Felicity to look over at me. "What?"

"Tents," I repeat. I glance up at Kartik, hoping that he knows… something. "Uh, when you stayed in the Gypsy camp, Kartik, you stayed in tents." He nods, looking at me as though I've grown a second head. "Do you think… that you have enough of a hold on your share of the magick to create a few?" He doesn't reply. "I can help! I remember what they look like, I think…"

Kartik arches a brow at me. "And just when did you get so close to one of the Gypsy tents, Miss Doyle?"

My mind goes back to the first months I spent at Spence Academy, back to when I first met Kartik. Then, I had a dream, a very vivid dream… Where I went to Kartik in the dead of night, to his tent. I startled him awake, I remember, but he didn't throw me out. A flush rises to my cheeks as I remember that dream, remember the feel of Kartik lying atop me. Kartik is still looking at me, waiting for an answer to his question, but I don't know what to say.

"I… am a very good observer of my surroundings," I finally stammer out. He doesn't look convinced, but he doesn't press me. I bring my hands up, wanting to escape his penetrating gaze by busying myself. "So… shall we attempt to create a few facsimiles of Gypsy tents?"

Kartik and I do the first one together – so that he can get used to the process of using the magick, and so that I can see the basic construction of the tents. After that, he and I each do one other. Philon refuses to stay in a tent – "too confining," he says – so that leaves two to each tent.

"Why two in each tent?" Fee asks Kartik. I'm pleased that she's actually speaking to him, as an equal.

"To conserve body heat," he tells her. "It will be warmer with two people in each tent."

"But it's not cold," she points out.

Kartik stops tightening the anchor ropes of one of the tents to stare at her. "Do you want to see how cold you can become, should the Realms suddenly shift form?" Fee opens her mouth to argue, but Kartik continues, "Should someone or _something_ change the season, I don't want to be left out in the snow."

Fee nods grudgingly. "Very good thought. I hadn't thought of that."

"Evidently," Kartik replies dryly. With one last twist of the anchor stake, he stands. "All right. Who will go where?"

Immediately, Ann and Fee step closer together. Asha and Min are already standing in front of the mouth of one of the other tents. So that leaves… I swallow. Me and Kartik. I look up at him, hoping that he might argue against the pairings, but Kartik remains silent. I watch Min and Asha step into their tent and tamp down the entry flap to keep any passing winds out. Ann throws me a slightly pitying look, but she allows Fee to go into the tent next to ours.

Kartik looks down at me, some strange emotion in his gaze. "Well, Miss Doyle? Ladies first." He puts a hand at the small of my back to guide me in, and I bite my lip. Oh dear. This will be an interesting night.

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A/N**: I cannot apologise enough for the lateness of this update. As a consolation, I hope you readers accept the length of the chapter, though I realize that it does not make up for my tardiness. Now, as to what you can expect in the next chapter: I'm considering deviating from classic Libba Bray format, and giving Kartik a chance to have a say. What say you, readers? Majority counts, so get in your say!  
Of course, to get your say in, you must (hint, hint) **_leave a review_**. Yes, as stated before, I am indeed a review whore. Thank you to _all _my reviewers (does thanking reviewers by name irritate or excite? I never know). I am so very honoured to have such wonderful readers/reviewers as you bunch; really, you're tops. And, as a closing: if you have _any_ ideas whatsoever for this story, tell me! I love using reader suggestions. Blessed be.


	9. Kartik Has A Say

**Disclaimer**: All recognizable things belong to Libba Bray, that amazing woman who deigned to give us a glimpse into her mind. All else… Well, I suppose you could say it was mine. I would prefer you didn't, though.

**A/N**: Family vacations, college counsellors, and so forth have kept me away from my beloved computer for much too long! Hence, the lateness of this update. Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers for the praise and encouragement to continue writing. And, yes, thanks even to the more derogatory reviewers; every little bit helps. Now, to continue: this chapter is from **_Kartik's POV_**, readers. Don't be confused, just bear with me. Shall we have the same scene from Gemma's POV also, or what? You tell me. (Sorry about the page breaks, too. Stupid FFN.) Yay, story!

**_Refresher_**: He puts a hand at the small of my back to guide me in, and I bite my lip. Oh dear. This will be an interesting night.

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**In the Realms, Chapter Nine**

Gemma looks back at me, nervousness in her green eyes. Perhaps this is because she doesn't want to share the tent with me. Or perhaps I am only seeing my own anxiety reflected in her gaze. Whatever the reason, she takes a shuddering breath before ducking through the tent flap into the interior. I follow her, quickly turning to tamp down the entrance flap to keep the wind out. There isn't wind yet, but as I told Miss Worthington, there might be some later. As I work, Gemma is inspecting the tent with the aid of a small lamp that I presume she has magicked into existence.

"This is… nice," she says, and I can hear surprise in her voice. I can't help it. My fragile confidence shatters and I retaliate with cold anger, standing up and spinning to face this English girl who presumes to judge me.

"And what did you expect, Miss Doyle?" Even I can hear the ice in my voice. "Hard dirt and sharp stones?" She looks hurt, and I'm instantly remorseful.

"That's not what I meant at all," she answers softly. "If you remember, Kartik, _I_ am the one who created this tent from the magick of the Realms. I am merely startled that it… worked."

"Miss Doy – that is, Gemma. I didn't mean to insult you…"

She gives a half-smile, her pinkish lips curving slightly. "Neither of us ever _mean_ to insult the other, do we? And yet we always manage to do so."

I offer an almost-smile in return, and the anger is gone. I permit my gaze to skim over her clothing, and Gemma watches me do so with a combination of wariness and confusion in her expression. When I have finished examining her, I find myself wondering if she will sleep in all those layers. After all, I saw her undress for bed a few months ago – she had four or five layers of underclothes, not even counting the dress. None of it looked comfortable either. Ah well, at least she has shed her cloak; one less layer for her to worry about.

"What's wrong?" Gemma's voice breaks into my thoughts, and I tear myself from my reverie.

"Nothing's wrong," I answer hastily. "I was only wondering…" I pause, and she gestures for me to continue. "I was only wondering what you will sleep in." A blush rises to her cheeks, and I inwardly ask, _'Why does she blush at such a simple question?'_

"I actually hadn't thought of that," admits Gemma. "I suppose… I could either create something or I could just sleep in my kirtle."

"Pardon my asking, but what is a _kirtle_?"

Her blush deepens, making her look somewhat like a confused beet. "It's like a dress, only it goes under the dress." I shake my head, showing that I don't understand, and she tries to explain further. "The kirtle is the first thing I put on when dressing, and is the lightest of the clothes." She bites her lip, and I allow my eyes to be drawn to that slight movement. "There is essentially nothing beneath it."

Ah. Now I understand her blush. Most Englishwomen feel that this is unseemly, sleeping next to a man not their husband. And for a proper young English girl to sleep next to an Indian man wearing nearly nothing…

"Are you ashamed because I am an Indian?" I ask abruptly.

"_What_?" Gemma stares. "Are you starting that again, Kartik?" I don't answer. "If it will get you to _stop_ keeping on about it – no. I'm not ashamed that you're Indian and I'm English. I'm not ashamed at all."

Now _I'm_ the one staring. "Then why are you blushing, Gemma?"

She puts her fingers to her temples, rubbing slightly. "Because, Kartik," she finally answers, "I have never met anyone quite as frank as you." Gemma smiles and puts her hands down. "It's… surprising, and so I blush." A light flush colours her cheeks. "But that doesn't mean I don't like it."

Gemma Doyle is full of more surprises than I previously thought.

"So, then, do you _like_ when I look at you? Because nearly all the time I look at you, you blush." Gemma flushes prettily, and I smile to myself.

"I explain things so badly," she grouses. "You and I…"

"Do the things that we do here, in the Realms, affect the waking world?" I interrupt. She gives me a strange look, but doesn't try to go back to our previous topic.

"I don't think I understand what you mean."

"If someone was stabbed here and went to our world, would they be stabbed there?" I think, hard, and try again. "If I died here, would I die in our world?"

Gemma's face drains of all colour, and I realise that I've said something wrong. She sways on her feet, and I'm by her side in an instant. When she faints, I'm there to catch her. She lands neatly in my arms, and I wonder what to do. I should lay her down, but how to accomplish that? Slowly and awkwardly, I kneel down with Gemma in my arms and gently place her on one of the sleeping mats. I look around for a pillow and, finding none, pull my shirt off and tuck it under her head. I read somewhere that fainting victims should have their heads elevated, and I hope that I'm doing the right thing.

After a brief check of her vitals, I sit cross-legged on the other mat, my eyes on Gemma's pale face. She's breathing, and her pulse is what I suppose to be normal, so I suppose that I simply shocked her into unconsciousness with something I said. Perhaps…

Oh no. Oh, I am a complete _idiot_. The other girl, the one that they were so close to, Pippa! She died here in the Realms, or something like that, and is now dead in our world. She didn't cross over the river, and now she's planning to revenge herself upon us, the New Order. Why didn't I _think_ before I asked Gemma such a stupid question? I have to make this up to her somehow, though the details of this will have to come later, because she's starting to stir.

"What happened?" she murmurs, her green eyes narrowed. She had put the lamp down just before our argument about the tent, so she hasn't caught on fire. For that, at least, I'm grateful.

"You fainted again," I reply simply, and she mutters something under her breath. "What was that?"

Spots of red appear on her cheekbones and Gemma says more loudly, "I said that I wished these bloody fainting spells would just _stop_."

I chuckle. I can't help it, but hearing her swear like a normal person, instead of trying to live up to who she thinks she has to be… it amuses me. It reminds me of the time that she and I spent eating dosa in an East London tavern. Back when she was so vexed about following a bloody path… I bite my lip suddenly, wondering to myself… "Did you see anything?"

Gemma sits up, tucking her legs under her. "What do you mean?"

"Visions. Did you have any visions, like when you fainted at the fire?"

She meets my gaze steadily. "No."

For some reason, I don't believe her. My gaze lands on the tattoo on my right wrist, and a rush of shame comes over me. How can I not believe her, when I've already lied to her? She asked about this tattoo, and I claimed that it was the mark of the Rakshana, banking on the fact that she wouldn't remember my invocation of the skull-and-the-sword. I'm sure that Gemma doesn't remember, since she hasn't confronted me about it yet.

All the same, I still feel guilty.

Then I notice that she's blushing again, and I blink in surprise. "Is everything all right, Gemma?"

"Er, yes…"

I _know_ she's lying now. "What's the matter?"

She looks at me, but then quickly averts her gaze. When she speaks again, she speaks to the small table on which she laid down the oil lamp. "You're, um, not…"

My brows go up. "Not what?"

"Wearing a shirt," she finishes in a whisper.

I look down at myself, but more out of reflex than surprise. "Well, no. I wanted to elevate your head, and I couldn't find a pillow, so I did the best I could." I look at Gemma again, feeling only slightly confused. "I'm sorry, this bothers you. I'll…" I reach for my shirt, just behind Gemma, but she surprises me by reaching out with one hand and stopping me.

She's biting her lip. "Kartik, I… want to tell you something."

"What's that, Lady Whatsit?" I ask playfully, trying to dispel the sudden heaviness in the air. I've only managed to anger Gemma, though, as she shows with a glare in my direction.

"I'm _trying_ to be serious," she snaps. Then one corner of her mouth lifts up in a smile, and she finishes, "Lord Hoity-toity." The atmosphere becomes light and cheery for a moment, and I allow myself to relax. Sadly, my reaction is premature. Suddenly the heaviness is again surrounding us, and I realise that nothing I can say will permanently chase it away. Resigned to whatever Gemma feels she has to say, I gesture for her to continue. "A while ago, back when I first met you… when you were with the Gypsies at Spence…"

"What of it?"

"I… had a dream." She has been looking down at her hands, folded in her lap, till now; now Gemma lifts her head for a brief moment to meet my gaze, before again looking down. "You and I…"

"What, Gemma?" I am suddenly wary. I can't explain why, but I doubt that I am going to like what she has to say.

"Um, I am only saying this because… well, I lied to you, Kartik."

I did _not_ expect this. "You lied to me."

"Yes. About how I knew what the Gypsy tents looked like. There was that brief moment, after the Gypsy boy Ithor confronted us and you said that I was your… _gadje_, that I spent in one of the tents. But my real knowledge of the tents was because of that dream." That infernal blush steals over her cheeks again. "I… came to you, almost as though I were a ghost, and you…"

Oh God. I thought that… Oh _God_. I remember this! I thought it was just a dream, just something that my mind conjured in effort to deal with the unwanted attraction that I had for my… subject. Gemma's still talking, blushing furiously as she hesitantly describes what happened between us that night.

I don't want to have to remember a dream. I don't want it to be a _dream_ at all. With that in mind, I scoot closer to Gemma Doyle than she realises, because she's still talking.

"…a-and, I thought that…" She looks up now, seeing me only a few centimetres away from her, and her voice falters and dies. "…you should…"

I lean over and kiss her. Gemma gives out a small squeak of surprise, but doesn't move. I want her to… do something, respond somehow! I reach up with one hand, resting it lightly at the nape of her neck. Her hair has been bound back, and I blindly untie whatever is binding it, letting her flaming-red curls spill out into my fingers.

I pull away for an instant to look her in the eye, to give her the chance, the choice to stop this. When I meet her gaze, though, she's trembling.

"Kartik," she murmurs, this time willingly leaning forward of her own accord. To my surprise, Gemma brings her mouth to mine all on her own, which pleases me immensely. Save for that first kiss in the Gypsy camp, she hasn't begun a single one of our embraces; I was beginning to think that she had no real interest in me at all.

Her lips part just slightly, and I hesitantly slide my tongue through. I remember that first kiss all too well, when she practically sprang away from me. Right now, though, Gemma is doing nothing to stop me. Her arms lift and slide around my neck, and I suddenly remember that I'm shirtless. Just like in that dream we shared. I chuckle to myself, and Gemma breathes out a noise that could possibly be a moan.

"That tickled…," she whispers into my mouth, and I feel as though I'm going to die. This girl… she possesses a power over me quite unlike what the Rakshana had. Gemma has the power to destroy me with a single look, a flippant word. I wonder if she realizes just how weak I am when it comes to her.

'_Weak…'_

What if… Pippa realizes what my weakness is? She could do twice the damage in a single blow, destroying both the living Temple and… and me.

I pull out of the embrace, overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of what I have just realised. I fall onto my back and throw an arm over my eyes, trying to comprehend what I just thought. Unfortunately, I've forgotten about the female next to me.

"Er… Kartik?"

In one fluid motion, I remove my arm from across my eyes and sit up. "Yes, Gemma?"

She bites her lip. "Weren't we just…?"

I. Am. An. Idiot. If _Pippa_ doesn't take Gemma from me, then my own stupidity might drive her from me instead! "Yes, Gemma. I'm sorry that I am suddenly so distracted."

"Distracted by what?" She scoots closer to me, looking very attentive. The effect is slightly ruined when she curls up next to me, laying her head on my shoulder. I can smell her hair… I mentally slap myself and swallow a couple of times to reorient myself.

"Well… Pippa."

That was _definitely_ the wrong thing to say. Gemma has sat straight up and moved a few centimetres away from me, her brow furrowed in perplexity – or anger. "Are you saying that you'd rather have Pippa with you?" she asks, her voice hard. She's angry, no doubt about it.

"No, of course not!" I press my lips together, at a loss as how to explain. "But… I'm having trouble forgetting that we're going to fight her, and soon. She's going to use all our weaknesses against us, isn't she?"

Gemma has relaxed now, for which I'm grateful. "Yes, she is. Much like the Poppy Warriors did, while we were searching for the Temple. They… hurt us. Not physically, but they figured out where we were emotionally weak and attacked us there."

I close my eyes briefly. That's what I was afraid of. When I open my eyes again, Gemma looks concerned.

"Kartik, are you all right?"

I smile half-heartedly. "I will be. Gemma, I realise that you'll probably think that this request is strange, but…"

"What is it?"

I sigh softly. "Will you… sleep with me?"

She looks confused. "We're sharing the tent, I think…"

"No, Gemma. Sleep _next_ to me. For… well, for comfort. Yours and mine." She looks a bit dubious, so I quickly add, "Nothing will happen, I promise! I'll keep my hands to myself."

Her gaze flicks mischievously to my mouth and then skitters down my bare torso. "I don't think it's your _hands_ I have to worry about."

I flush. Drat, now the girl has me doing it. "Nothing will happen… that you don't want to happen."

It's her turn to blush. Ha! Turnabout _is_ fair play. "Agreed."

Gemma smiles at me, but I don't want to leave it at that. So, instead, I take her hand in mine and brush a kiss lightly over the back of it. I let go quickly, for fear that I'll break my promise and attempt something more. "Agreed, then."

I scoot the two sleeping mats close together and gesture for Gemma to turn the lamp down. She does so, leaving the interior of our tent rather dim – enough to sleep by, enough to see by. I lie down on one of the mats, tucking my arm underneath my head, and wait for Gemma to lie down, too. Hesitantly, Gemma's hands go to the front of her dress, where she begins to undo the buttons. I sit up.

"Gemma, what are you…?"

"Getting more comfortable. I don't need to sleep in this dress, and I have enough underneath to keep me warm." As she speaks, she quickly sheds the dress, much more quickly than I'd have thought possible. She looks so much more… natural, I suppose. More human. She actually _has_ a body. I blink, belatedly realising that I'm staring at her, but I can't help it.

Gemma smiles slightly. "Lie down, Kartik," she suggests in a soft voice.

And then she's lying next to me, her head pillowed on my rolled-up shirt, her back facing me. I lie down, rolling onto my side and reaching one arm over Gemma's waist to bring her a little closer. I hear her quick intake of breath, but she doesn't object.

In this position, with thoughts of the coming battle running through my mind, I manage to fall asleep.

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**A/N**: Questions, ideas, comments, concerns? If it's about the lateness of this update, I apologise. It's hard balancing school, FFN, and freelance editing! Plus, I'm working on an original novel, and sometimes that takes priority; again, apologies! Plus, my school briefly blocked access to FFN, and I don't have Internet at home. As to the next chapter: more Kartik POV, or same scene with Gemma, or scenes in the other tents? Since this story wouldn't exist without my reviewers, I like to give you all a choice…  
Anyway, this update is to commemorate the beginning of my S-E-N-I-O-R year! I can't believe it; it's unreal. Unfortunately, a side effect of this will be slower updates. Sorry, can't be avoided! Oh, and just because I want to tell the whole world… I was recently accepted to a university, with a scholarship and everything! I might decide to commemorate this with another (possibly shorter) update, but only as time allows. Finally: I feel honoured to have so many readers, with so many great reviews! Keep it up! Blessed be.


	10. Tents and Snow, Kisses and Confusion

**Disclaimer**: All recognizable things belong to Libba Bray, that amazing woman who deigned to give us a glimpse into her mind. All else… Well, I suppose you could say it was mine. I would prefer you didn't, though. 

**A/N**: Bah, too much schooling. They're really packing on the workload now. Sorry, folks. But I'm back now! Wuv to all you reviewers. And to all you phantom readers (and you know who you are): be a phantom no longer! Review! This chapter returns to Gemma's POV, but that's all I'm saying. Now for the story.

**_Refresher_**: In this position, with thoughts of the coming battle running through my mind, I manage to fall asleep.

* * *

**In the Realms, Chapter Ten**

I lie very still, all too aware of Kartik's arm lying across my midriff. He seems to have fallen asleep very quickly, and his soft breaths tickle the back of my neck. I am glad that Kartik is so fast asleep; I don't know when we will have to battle Pippa, but I'm already feeling the strain of waiting. I'm tired, but can't seem to fall asleep. I must be too full of adrenaline to relax.

I always thought that Fee was the impatient one, but it turns out that it's me. I want to face my once-friend and have the confrontation over and done with. Is that so wrong?

Kartik murmurs softly in his sleep, and I instinctively hold my breath. I can't discern what he's saying, but his arm tightens around me, drawing me closer to his bare torso.

Right. Another reason as to why I'm awake, although I desperately crave sleep.

I am… shocked that I acted the way that I did, just a few minutes ago. Not that Kartik and I have again shared a kiss – a very _strong_ kiss at that – but rather that _I_ initiated it. Never have I ever been so bold! There must be something in the air here that lowers my inhibitions.

And Kartik keeps dwelling on the Poppy Warriors. He continually asks about weaknesses and if I think that Pippa will use ours against us, and in what ways. Of what is he so afraid? What more can he lose? After all, my mother cost him his brother, and I have cost him the Rakshana. What else is there for him to regret?

I'm so afraid. When I told Kartik earlier that I thought that I would be the one to die, I meant it. But now I see that I have so much to live for. His mentioning Pippa brought on another fainting spell, but an enjoyable one – if such a thing can exist. I again lied to Kartik when I told him that I had had no visions; I saw not a battle with Pippa, not a future for the Realms, but… well, a future for ourselves.

He is an Indian and I am a 'proper British girl,' but my visions told another story. He and I weren't divided by race or class or beliefs, and were in fact united in every sense of the word. It is not that we were merely openly affectionate, but… in my vision, I saw that Kartik and I were friends, comrades, warriors of the Realms, and – and _lovers_.

More than anything, I want that vision to come true. I think therein lies the true reason that I want to fight this battle and move on.

Oh… Kartik seems to be treating me as he would a stuffed animal of a sort… His mouth has come very close to my ear, his lips lazily rubbing against the bone just below my earlobe.

I think he's awake.

"Kartik, are you awake?" I ask softly enough not to disturb him if he were truly sleeping. In answer, his arms draw me even closer to his body, his breath exhaling gently and ruffling my loose hair. I turn over in his embrace and meet his dark eyes, which are twinkling back at me mischievously. I adopt a falsely scolding tone and tease him, saying, "Were you funning me, Kartik?"

"Maybe," he replies in a very provoking manner.

I can't help myself; I laugh. Quite a normal response, but, in our current position, it sounds so much more intimate than it really is. I gently touch the tip of my nose to his, ignoring the squawking in my brain that sounds remarkably like my grandmother – her voice is screeching that this is most improper, but I don't care. For once, I'm doing exactly as I please, and I like it. "Maybe? Maybe I want a better answer than that." Our mouths are so close together that each time I speak, my lips brush his.

He moves his head, catching my lips with his and quite stealing my breath away. Suddenly we're wrapped up so tightly in each other, exploring each other as far as we dare, that I can scarcely remember to breathe, much less think. Then Kartik's knee moves between my legs and I gasp into yet another kiss, accidentally taking some of Kartik's air with my sharp breath. The cloth of his pants is rough and foreign, yet I don't ask him to move his leg, nor do I leap to my feet shrieking at the indecency of it all.

I have no idea where this could lead, but I don't think that I'm afraid to find out. When Simon took me to the maid's room whilst still under influence of the green fairy, some deep-seated instinct as well as my frightening visions made me scream. When I am in Kartik's arms, that same instinct keeps urging me to hold him a little closer, kiss him a little harder, and see what happens. Then a gentle breeze traverses my cheek and, in the recesses of my mind, I hear a sharp, stifled giggle – but I almost instantly forget it, the sensation and sound squashed by the heat and taste of Kartik's mouth.

I reluctantly pull away to breathe, belatedly realizing that my hands are tangled in his hair, my fingers wound firmly around clumps of his inky curls. I want to kiss him again. Kartik laughs breathily in my ear – he sounds so out of breath – and asks, "Trying to take a souvenir?" He nuzzles my cheekbone, his jaw and a day's worth of stubble grazing my skin. I shiver in his arms, and he pulls away. "Gemma? What's wrong?"

Gently disentangling my fingers from his hair, I smile at him and stroke his cheek with my hand. "Nothing at all, Kartik. For once, nothing at all."

He smiles back at me. "Then I'm glad." He easily turns me over so that I am once again spooned up against him and draws me back against his chest. When he speaks again, I can hear his voice in my ears and feel it against my back. "We should sleep, Gemma. I don't know when we'll have to face Pippa, but we – and most especially you – need to be rested."

I nod. "I agree." I nestle back into his chest, once again settling my cheek on his shirt. As I'm dropping off to sleep, I tiredly murmur, "I love you…"

I don't even know if he hears it. But I had to say it. I don't want him to lose me thinking that I never truly loved him. And just when I think he hasn't heard me at all, Kartik whispers back, "I love you, too."

* * *

Queen Pippa, astride her magnificent black steed, looks down at her most trusted knight. Behind her stands her castle of bone and rock, gleaming against the grey sky. She is preparing to begin her long ride to the Main Realm, that which she and her so-called friends once so enjoyed. A crown of talons and bone rests on her brow, her long black hair even longer and wilder than it had been in life. The ethereal beauty that Gemma remembers so well is still present, which will probably make the true confrontation all the worse.

Pippa smiles to herself, her teeth razor-sharp and quite like those of some feline predator. Her knight, the same one that she had created so long ago, still stands beside her. She leaves to him the protection of the Winterlands and the moderate control of her kingdom. Then her knight catches at her hand, breaking her reverie.

"Would that I could go with you, My Lady," he says regretfully, his handsome face contorted with emotion.

The smile falls away and the Winter Queen replies, "My knight, you please us most by remaining here, to protect our kingdom and our brethren. I will return." Pippa lays her hand on his brow, her face softening minutely. "I promise, I will return."

Then her face once more becomes icy stone and she looks to her right, at her lead mounted guard. She gives a sharp nod; with that, the long ride begins. As Pippa looks forward to the edge of the Winterlands, her eyes are hard and resolute. Yet a grim smile plays at the corners of her mouth.

'_No one knows your weaknesses like I do, Gemma,'_ she thinks to herself. _'Not even _you_ know what will hurt you most.'_

Pippa's mind turns to the young man that her shapeshifter, Agerthan, had told her of, the Indian Gypsy that had once stared at her by the lake. The grimness leaves her mouth and an evil smile curls her lips; she wonders what would hurt the Priestess more: losing her love to Death, or losing him to Evil?

* * *

The next morning, sunlight strikes me full in the face. I stretch, leisurely swimming back to consciousness. Then someone moves beside me, and I freeze. For a moment, I know not where I am and am so very afraid. Then Kartik's now-familiar rhythm of breathing – and the occasionally squeaky snore at which I must suppress a laugh – resumes and I am at ease. I get up silently and realise what my informal alarm clock means.

I look to the tent flap, wanting to know why the sunlight has penetrated the sanctum that Kartik and I share, and nearly growl when I see shining eyes dart away. I am rarely a lover of early-morning, less so when I have been spied on in the night. The giggle and whispering breeze return to my memory, and I mentally curse how easily Kartik distracted me.

The man in question slowly wakes behind me and I turn to meet his gaze, to let the first thing he sees on what might be our last day living be the girl he professes to love. His voice is thick with sleep, but happiness is there too as he says, "Gemma? What time is it?"

I go to him and kneel next to him, pushing back his unruly curls with one hand. "Time to get up."

He struggles to a sitting position, still not entirely awake. For a moment, he looks exactly like the Kartik I saw in my last vision, the Kartik that I had grown to see as more than an equal. Then he blinks and the uncertainty returns to his gaze. "Will she come today?" The unspoken question hangs between us: _Will today be the day we die?_

I shrug. Inelegant, but truthful. "I don't know. We can only be prepared." I pick up Kartik's shirt, shaking it out with both hands. "Here. We must get dressed." I hand it to him. When our hands touch, a brief shock of feeling lances through me, but I shove it away. If this is truly the day of our fated last battle, then I must have all my wits about me. I turn away from Kartik, ignoring the confusion I can read in the set of his body, and begin dressing myself. My hands fumble with the buttons on my dress, and I want to cry with frustration.

Kartik eases into my line of sight, his shirt on but the collar still loose. "Let me help you." His long fingers deftly refasten all my buttons, not lingering on any inappropriate part of me. Within this last day, he has gotten so much better at understanding me, knowing when to tease and when to remains silent. When Kartik has finished, he remains at my feet. "Gemma, why are you so worried?"

I lash out. "Why are you not?"

He doesn't react, only looks at me. "I am. But you only see yourself. Gemma, if we are to win this battle, we need you to help us do it. Don't be distracted. See only the truth."

I fall to a kneeling position, putting us face to face. "Don't be distracted? Kartik, _you_ distract me! I can't… I can't think straight when I'm around you! I only know what I feel, and all I want to do is stay in your arms. How can I be of any help in a battle if all I can see is you?"

Surprisingly, he doesn't move. After a moment or so more, Kartik asks quietly, "Do you want me gone from your sight until this battle ends?"

My heart feels as though it is tearing itself in two. I reach out to him with trembling fingers. "No. No, I will never want you gone." I run my fingertips over his cheekbone, fleetingly trace the curve of his mouth as sensory memory overcomes me. "Just…" My hand falls away. "I don't know. I don't know what to do or what to say. I have never had to deal with anything like this, and am at a complete loss for words."

Kartik smiles at me, his white teeth a startling contrast against his dark skin. "Honesty. I find that I like honesty from you, Miss Doyle. In our past dealings, we have had so little cause to be honest with each other."

I swallow, my throat unnervingly dry. "What do you mean?"

He silently pulls me into an embrace, letting me brace myself against his broad shoulders. I let the scent of him play with my nose and smile into his skin. I ease out of his arms, pushing my hair back with one hand. "Thank you," I say simply, and I know that I need say nothing else.

Kartik gets to his feet, offering me a hand up. I allow him to pull me to my feet and I turn to look disapprovingly at the open tent flap. His eyes follow my gaze and I can feel him tense behind me.

"How long has it been open?"

"Long enough," I reply, since I have no other answer ready. I take a deep breath and am about to exit our tent when a long red curl annoyingly drops into my face. I grumble under my breath and search for a ribbon or something with which I might tie it back. Then Kartik moves in front of me, a smile playing at his mouth.

"Allow me, Miss Doyle." He holds his hands out, the very air between them bending and shifting into… a light blue hair ribbon, the same colour as my dress. He magicked it for me – how thoughtful. I obligingly lift my hair up and back in as simple a style I can think of, and Kartik secures the ribbon around it. He brushes his fingers over the nape of my neck, and I shiver. I reach back and run my fingers over his, petting them as I might a kitten.

"I suppose we should go and face the morning," I eventually say, though I'd much rather stay in here and discover what else my instincts have to say about Kartik's body and the sensations it elicits from me. Not, perhaps, what an ordinary, proper Victorian young lady should be thinking of, but I am neither ordinary nor proper, am I?

"Yes, I suppose we must." Kartik kisses the side of my throat, a small gesture that touches me immeasurably, and then steps back. "After you, Lady Whatsit," he teases me. I smile at him and lead the way out.

When we step out of the tent, Ann and Fee are waiting for us. I find that I don't particularly like the look in Fee's eye, a sense that only strengthens when she leans over and whispers to Ann. They both giggle irritatingly and stare at Kartik and I.

"Ignore them," I suggest to Kartik, and we make our way over to Asha and Min. Philon is nowhere to be found, which worries me. I glance back at Kartik, and all it takes is a look for him to understand what I want.

"I'll go look for him," he offers, jogging over to a small bank of trees within our shield. I watch him go, wanting to smile but not daring to. Last night was a… diversion that I needed, but one that I cherish as well. I don't want Felicity Worthington or Ann Bradshaw to cheapen what they saw, if anything. Knowing Fee, though, she won't be able to believe that perhaps I kiss Kartik out of love, not out of daring. Now, in the daylight, though… I truly believe what I told Kartik, that I love him. And because I love him, I daren't allow my mind to wander from the coming battle with Pippa. I don't want to be the reason he dies.

Fee's voice breaks into my thoughts. "Did you sleep well last night, Gemma?" Her voice is annoyingly coy as my shoulders tense in anticipation of the coming duel.

I merely reply, "I slept rather refreshingly, thank you," before turning my attention inwards to the magick. I am blindly testing the edges of our shield for any damage, any sign of possible rupture, but Fee won't let this go that easily.

"I should think that you were quite _tired_ from all the activity," she says, wheedling.

Without opening my eyes, I calmly cause a tree root to grow out of the ground and loop itself around her ankle. Her surprised yelp is my reward, and I finally turn to face her. "Something wrong?"

She's glaring at me. "Gemma Doyle, release me this instant!"

"Why should I? The rest will do you good, seeing as how you stayed up to spy on me last night." Felicity pales. "What, did you think that I wouldn't notice? Or understand all the annoying little hints that you keep dropping this morning, Felicity?" The root tightens around her ankle with my agitation, and I hear her give a little moan of pain.

Ann puts her hand on my arm. "Gemma! Gemma, this isn't like you. What's wrong?"

With a shuddering gasp, I sink to the ground, the root uncoiling from about Fee's ankle. It disappears into the earth, and I bury my face in my hands. "Oh God, I'm sorry, Fee."

"Quite all right," she manages, though she still looks a bit bloodless. She and Ann sit down on either side of me, each laying a hand on my arms. "Ann's right, though, Gemma. Something's wrong, isn't there?"

After a moment's reflection, I look up, straight ahead of me, not paying attention to what's there, but I don't want to see the pitying looks on my friends' faces. "I don't want to die."

"But you won't!" Ann protests.

"I don't know what's wrong with me!" I burst out, my head dropping to my knees. "I-I feel so strange, so… not me. Yesterday I wouldn't have hurt you, Fee, and yesterday I wouldn't have…" My cheeks flush as I realise the truth of my words. Yesterday, I wouldn't have let my inhibitions disappear; I wouldn't have kissed Kartik with such abandon, and I wouldn't have tried to punish Felicity with my magick.

"So you feel a bit not yourself," Fee consoles me. "Everyone gets like that."

"Even Felicity Worthington?"

"_Especially_ Felicity Worthington," she answers firmly.

I lean my head on Ann's shoulder, briefly allowing my eyes to close. "I don't know what to do. I've been acting so unlike myself in the past twelve hours, and I don't know why."

"Maybe it's Pippa." Ann's simple words cause Felicity to gasp and me to sit up abruptly. We gape at our friend, who looks back at us serenely. "Well, perhaps it is. She knows our weaknesses better than we do, Gemma. What if she knows that your weakness is your uncertainty in yourself?"

"I am _not_…," I start to protest, but Ann holds up a hand to cut me off.

"Gemma, have you once thought of how to prepare for the battle since you've felt unlike yourself?"

"Well… not really, but…"

Ann hugs me, trying to comfort me. "Gemma, she's trying to distract you."

"It's working," Fee mutters under her breath, and I glare at her. "Well, it is!" she snaps.

"Gemma, I think you should go meditate with Asha for a while. It will do you good. But don't bring Kartik with you. I think he's distracting you in an entirely different way." I look at Ann, and her eyes are sparkling with mischief.

"Why, Ann Bradshaw!" I mock-gasp. "Were you _spying_ on us, too?"

"Maybe," she answers nonchalantly. She smiles at me and the two of them get to their feet easily. Only then do I realise that both of my friends are no longer in the dresses they arrived in. Rather, they are wearing versions of Min's warrior attire of trousers and long-sleeved shirts. Where Min wears cloth, though, they have glittering mail, and boots made more sturdily than the fashionable ones that we are used to. Ann and Felicity both help met to stand, and Fee brushes dirt and leaves off me.

"You should probably change into something like what we're wearing," Felicity suggests. "When you go to Asha, first talk to Min; she can help you magick something specifically for your use – perhaps a shield, or a protective cloak." She smiles. "It wouldn't do to lose our Most High Priestess."

I impulsively catch at my friends' hands and squeeze them. "Thank you. Both of you."

"For what?" Ann asks, surprised.

I give a shrug. "For… for being here. For believing me all this time. For helping me. For everything."

Felicity hugs me, and then Ann does, too. When they let go, we're all smiling, but sadness lurks in our eyes. "Go on, Gemma. Get your head back on straight, and then maybe we can start some of the real work."

I wave at them and start making my way towards Min and Asha; the two of them have been sitting on the ground all this time, talking or planning our attack. I'm only about halfway there when I hear a frightening scream… and then everything goes black.

* * *

**A/N**: Questions, ideas, comments, concerns? Speculations as to what will happen next? Complaints that I'm doing something wrong? Seriously, guys, anything goes. If you have anything that you want to say to me, but don't want the whole of FFN reading (or reviews aren't your thing), just PM me. Otherwise: review, review, review! I need feedback, people!  
Thanks to those reviewers who gave feedback on Chapter 9. Much wuv! Now, I _know_ more people read this story than those who review, and I'd love to hear from all of you. Or, if reviewing isn't your thing, urge some of your G&TB/RA-loving friends to read my story. The more canon-worshippers I have, the more likely I'll actually stick to canon. Finally, I am very honoured to have so many readers and so many great reviews! Thank you. Blessed be.

* * *

**Next Chapter Teaser**: _"I am cuddled against Kartik's shoulder, my unbound curls skittering down his bare torso with abandon. His arms are wrapped firmly about my belly, and I feel very… tired. But it is a good tired, the tired that one feels after a long day of running out of doors with friends. What in heaven's name could we have been doing that has me so tired? And so… improperly clothed?"_


	11. Visions and Grand Ideas

**Disclaimer**: All recognizable things belong to Libba Bray, that amazing woman who deigned to give us a glimpse into her mind. All else… Well, I suppose you could say it was mine. I would prefer you didn't, though. 

**A/N**: Schooling, working, etc. has kept me away. So sorry! Free Kartik glomp to reviewers, huzzah! _¡Y buen Fiesta del Día de los Muertos!_ Now, how many of you hate me after the last chapter's end… and the teaser for this chapter? Honestly, I'm surprised I'm not dead yet. But, like Not-Dead Fred, I can dance and I can sing. Sorry; Spamalot reference. When I get this random, it's time for the story.

**_Refresher_**: I'm only about halfway there when I hear a frightening scream… and then everything goes black.

* * *

**In the Realms, Chapter Eleven**

"My Lady, why must we travel in so… unseemly a manner?"

Queen Pippa, Empress of the Winterlands and future Ruler of the Realms, meets her shapeshifter's gaze with unblinking violet eyes. "Are you questioning me, Agerthan?" she demands in a low voice. She dares not shout as she wishes to; it certainly wouldn't do to have others in her army overhear her being challenged in this way.

"No, my Lady, of course not! I merely… wondered. You have told us all of your fantastic magickal abilities, but–"

"So you question my power." Pippa gets to her feet, her eyes flashing dangerously. She had been content, only moments ago, as she dined on the carcass of a hawk that she herself had shot down on the wing. Now that brief moment of quietude has shattered, all because of Agerthan's impunity.

"Well, not I, but–"

"Others, then. Very well. If you or any of the others in this army do not trust me – leave. Get out. Find some other powerful being to rally behind to take the Realms." Agerthan struggles to say something, but Pippa cuts him off quickly. "Oh, wait. You can't. Tell me _why_ you can't, Agerthan," she orders.

He looks down at the floor of his Queen's tent. "Because you destroyed all your rivals in your rise to power, in your bid for the Monarchy of the Winterlands," he answers softly.

"Exactly. And how could such a chit as I manage that without some magick to help me?" She tilts her chin up saucily, her hands on her hips. She's still wearing her day's riding costume of loose, full skirt and tight bodice. It merely adds to the sense – the false sense – that she is harmless. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Agerthan falls to his knees, the only way he is sure of to indicate to his Queen that he is serious. "My Lady, forgive me. I have been most foolish."

"That you have," Pippa returns airily. "But I shall forgive you. This time." She offers her shapeshifter her hands and helps him to his feet. When he once more stands sturdily on his own feet and facing her, he expects her to let go – but she keeps their hands clasped. "You may kiss me," she says primly, and desire ignites in his eyes.

He smiles, an undercurrent of heat turning it from pleased to longing. "As you command, my Lady." He leans down and over, slowly closing the distance between his queen's still-bloodied mouth and his own. Their lips meet briefly, and Pippa closes her eyes, making a soft sound of contentment in the back of her throat. Too soon to Agerthan's mind, she pulls away. Blood has stayed on his mouth, but he doesn't mind. 'Tis his queen's mark, and he will wear it proudly.

"That's quite enough, thank you," she tells him. "You may leave." She waits for Agerthan to exit, watching him glance back in longing, before securing her tent's entrance.

'_Fool,'_ she thinks contemptuously. _'Utter fool.'_ Pippa looks down at her right palm, next to her hip. Dark sparkles dance over her skin, and she lifts her fingers up towards her face. She trails the magick over her features and hair, which have begun to look like those of a just-decaying corpse, and they repair until she once again looks perfect. With that done, Pippa closes her fingers into a fist. As the last of the sparkles fades away into her skin, her blood-red lips curve into a smirk. And, unseen by her, a ghostly Gemma Doyle disappears from the corner in which she took refuge, much the richer in knowledge than she was when she appeared in this vision.

* * *

I am flying, flying over the snowy ground with nothing more than a thin dress and unfastened boots to protect me from the cold. I shiver, then realise that I am not really cold at all. I am flying much too quickly for the chill temperature to affect me, and I must close my eyes or risk vomiting. Then I stop abruptly, and I open my eyes. I don't see what's in front of me this time, though. No, my mind is still on Pippa, on Pippa sitting not a handbreadth in front of me. My mind is on Pippa, seeing her with her attention wholly absorbed by the… bloody… _thing_ in her hands in which she had her teeth to the gums. 

My mind is on the man that I saw – familiar to me, yet unreconizable – standing in front of her. Though perhaps not conventionally handsome, he was interesting to look at, with dark brown hair, olive skin, and blue eyes. He was dressed entirely in black with a long black cloak on his back and wore what seemed to be black leather boots. Like Pippa, he didn't see me either. I saw the entire exchange between Pippa and this man called Agerthan. It seems that Pippa has found other ways of adding to her magick, which is worrisome. That kiss gave her magick, as though she is taking her power from the desire and worship that Agerthan offers her.

"What are you thinking of, love?" I hear in my ear, and I gasp, startled. I blink, finally returning to the here and now of this vision, trying to discern what I see, feel, and hear. After a few moments, I can ascertain whom I am with, but not where or why.

I am cuddled against Kartik's shoulder, my unbound curls skittering down his bare torso with abandon. His arms are wrapped firmly about my belly, and I feel very… tired. But it is a good tired, the tired that one feels after a long day of running out of doors with friends. What in heaven's name could we have been doing that has me so tired? And so… improperly clothed?

The two of us are wrapped up in what seems to be a sort of furry blanket, though what little skin is showing has gooseflesh from cold. Kartik's scent is all about me – no, _on_ me, and it's very distracting. I can feel every inch of Kartik pressed against me, and I realise that I am sitting on his lap, both of us… neither of us… "Gemma, what are you thinking of to distract you so?" Kartik asks, his mouth very close to my ear.

"Your smell," I say, the first thing that I can think of. Kartik laughs.

"My smell?" asks he. "Do I smell then, Gemma?"

"Everyone smells," I answer inanely. "I smell."

He leans down, puts his nose very near the skin of my shoulder. He takes a deep breath, and I shiver. "You don't smell to me, Gemma. You just smell like you."

"See, that's what I mean," I babble. "People smell like themselves. Individual smells." I can't think straight with him so close to me. And so very… not clothed.

"An interesting theory, wife," he murmurs into my skin, and I freeze.

"What did you call me?" I ask, my mouth suddenly dry.

He sits up; I can feel him frowning. "Wife. Why? Do you not like the title suddenly?"

"Wife…?" I squeak.

"Need I remind you?" asks Kartik teasingly, and then he is kissing me, kissing me as I don't think I have ever been kissed. It's not rough at all, or hurried as some of our embraces have been. No, instead this kiss is very slow, almost… measured. Yes, I'm sure that's the right term. It's as though, instead of measuring his words, Kartik is measuring this kiss. It is so strange to be kissed like this, though, perhaps because he is sitting _behind_ me. When Kartik lifts me and turns me toward him so that we are kissing properly, I don't object. I hazily realise that I am straddling him as I might a horse, if I rode like a man. Just as I feel something very strange between my legs, something tugs at me, and I am again flying.

When I halt this time, I hover above my own body in the forest clearing, watching as my comrades and friends scurry about me. Asha, Min, and Philon seem the least worried, although they watch Kartik as a hawk would while he attempts to waken me. It seems that Kartik has found our armourer, then. Fee and Ann are both sitting next to me, clearly dismayed, but each is dealing with their emotions in her own way. Felicity is raking her hands through her hair, muttering distractedly to herself – I suspect that she is trying to understand what made me faint. Ann is merely holding the hand that Kartik does not have, with her eyes on my face.

Once I have seen all this, I re-enter my body with a noise very like a _whoosh_. Everything goes black for a moment, and I see, nay, I feel claws rip over my face. I awaken, screaming.

Shrieking, howling – these are the sounds of a mad person, but they come from my throat. Then again, am I any less mad than poor Nell Hawkins once was?

At that though, I force myself to quiet. I blink up into the glaring sun, grateful that I cannot see Kartik's face. Even through my pain, I somehow find the frivolity needed to create a blush as I think of my vision. I squint into the sun, thinking that I have seen something odd – something very like a bird with metal wings – as I try to catch my breath. Slowly, like a tuning orchestra, my sense of hearing returns and clears.

"Gemma, are you all right?"

"What happened, Gemma?"

"Most High…"

"What does this mean?"

"Rest, Priestess…"

"Get up, child. Get _up_!"

The last, given by Philon, I obey. When he gives orders, as he so rarely does, you heed them or risk his agitation. In that voice of his, agitation does not sit well. I'd rather scrape my nails over a slate until my ears bleed than deal with Philon's agitation. Therefore, given such incentive by Philon, I manage to sit up.

"Water," I croak pitifully.

Ann hurries forward with something even better – tea! Real English tea, with honey and lemon. It's so familiar, so comforting, so _Ann_-like that tears gather in my eyes. I gratefully accept the cup from my friend; as I drink, I try to communicate to Ann with my gaze that I bear her no ill will for spying on Kartik and me last night. I think that Ann understands what I want to tell her, for she smiles warmly at me.

Once I've finished my tea, I've regained my voice. I'm ready to tell what I've seen, with a few omissions to be told in private later – indeed, if at all.

"Pippa is closer," I begin. My voice cracks; I clear my throat and continue. "She and her… army do not travel by magick, I believe for fear of exhausting their reserves. I believe it is Philon that we thank for that." He bows. I feel odd, being the only one sitting, and I struggle to stand. A slim hand comes into view, and I accept Min's offer of help. With her strength, I leverage myself to my feet. "Thank you," I tell her, and she nods in return, her yellow eyes inscrutable. I release her hand to stand by myself and sway dangerously for a moment. Kartik moves behind me, silently offering me his strength, but I choose not to lean on him – not so soon, after what I saw.

"Pippa?" Ann prompts me.

"Yes, thank you. There is something else that you should know: I think that Pippa has found a new way to collect magick." No one moves. "She must use her magick to make herself look human again, to inspire courage from her troops. She has a near-constant supply of magick, because I think she has devised a way to draw her power from the adoration of her servants and troops."

That gets Min's attention. "So her followers' belief and love for her strengthens her, gives her power?" She doesn't wait for me to answer. "Most High, she has learned the secrets of the gods!"

Asha speaks from behind me. "Like the Ancient Ones, Pippa has learned how to harness her people's strength of belief in her as her own strength. How did you learn this, Priestess?"

I bite my lip. "I saw… I saw a man, a knight of hers I suppose. I saw her reprimand him for not believing in her. He knelt at her feet and apologized, and she forgave him. And then… he kissed her."

Ann arches a brow. "Not very queen-like, is she?" she comments quietly. Master of the understatement, our Ann-girl.

"And after the kiss, she displayed her magick?" Asha presses. I nod, and her lips thin into an expression of hardly reined-in frustration. "That girl is an irritation on my skin, I swear."

"Would that we could remove her so easily," I murmur. Then something occurs to me, and I look up at the others. "Wait. The knight… she called him Agerthan, but he made reference to her rise to power in the Winterlands. He said that she destroyed all her rivals, and Pippa said that she'd used magick to do it." I'm paraphrasing, but the important information is there. "If we can find out how she destroyed her rivals for the crown, perhaps we can figure out the limits of her power."

For a brief moment, no one says anything. Then Fee, who had been looking at her boots, gives a small leap. "Gemma, of course!" She stares at me, grey eyes shining. "That's it!"

I blink. "What's it?"

She springs forward and hugs me, and I yip in pain. For some reason, I can feel bruises on my ribs. Either my vision or Felicity's _last_ hug did that to me. Fee lets go and backs away with contrition on her face, though her eyes are still sparkling with the force of her idea.

"Don't you see? The knight, the kiss, the rise to power, the magick… We can use it against her!"

Kartik is just as lost as I am. He steps forward to stand abreast of me, and I can read the confusion on his face even out of the corner of my eye. Then I flush, remembering again the feel of him behind me. "I'm sorry, but none of this makes sense to me. Could you perhaps…"

"Fee, for once explain what you mean when you mean it," Ann tells her flatly. "Now is _not_ the time to tease and be coquettish with an idea."

She pouts. "I was _going_ to, but you interrupted." Fee turns to face me, grinning broadly. "Gemma, you remember what it was that Pippa created the first time we came, don't you?"

Ann answers for me, "Her knight. The knight with the golden hair, to love her unconditionally."

"Quite right. Now, do you think that this knight is still around?"

I try to follow Fee's line of thought, but almost instantly give it up. "I… I guess so. I know that he wasn't in Pippa's tent, but he swore to be devoted to her, didn't he? He's either at her castle in the Winterlands or he's riding with her." I frown. "No, he can't be riding with her. He would never have permitted Agerthan to kiss her."

Kartik breaks in, "Gemma, I don't understand. What _are_ you all talking about?"

I look up at him, utterly mystified. "You know, I wish I knew." I go back over what we've just said, and then it dawns on me. "Wait, Fee… Oh, you _are_ devious."

She smiles, her eyes dancing. "Aren't I, though?"

Ann puts a hand to her head, as though begging for patience – or a headache relief. "Stop speaking in code, both of you! Just… just spit it out!" As if to please her, Min spits onto a stone nearby, and Ann looks green. "I didn't mean like that, Min."

I absently note that Min's saliva has already burnt a hole into the rock, though not to the extent that her blood would. Acidic saliva; I'll have to remember that. I turn to Ann and try to steer her to the basic idea. "Ann, what is one of the most basic emotions that a human can feel?"

"Anger?" she offers, still looking vaguely sick.

I grin, feeling very mischievous suddenly. "Almost, Ann. _Jealousy_."

Ann gapes at me, not understanding. Then, slowly, the knowledge of what Felicity is proposing spreads over her features, and she smiles, her expression of nausea fading. Once again, the beautiful Ann shines through, and I find myself smiling back at her.

"You understand now, don't you, Ann-girl?" She nods slowly, continuing to grin foolishly. "Good."

Kartik interrupts again. "I apologise, but I am _still_ lost. Would someone please explain to me exactly what our plan is?" Min, Asha, and Philon don't say anything, but I am sure that they, too, would like an explanation. They watch Kartik's attempts to pry information from us as though it were an interesting croquet match, not a brilliant plan to undermine Pippa's power.

Felicity turns to Kartik, suddenly quite business-like. "You see, Kartik, it's like this: Pippa created a knight with golden hair to serve her forevermore in the Realms. She did this while still human, but he continued to serve her even after she…" She falters, but charges ahead. "After she died."

I interrupt with something I'm not sure Fee will include. "When the magick was loose, Pippa used him to bring her sacrifices to satisfy her hunger for flesh. He was her servant even then. I am certain that he continues to serve her in the Winterlands."

Fee shoots me a glare, and I quiet. "Thank you for your input, Gemma. Now, as I was saying – he vowed to serve her forever because she created him to love her purely and without bias. Since the magick is still strong within her, I've no doubt that he still feels the same. And, like any man in love, he is extremely jealous and territorial." The last she says with a grim smile, and I wonder if she learned this lesson while Simon was pursuing her. She continues, "So you see, if we can get him to believe that Pippa has turned against him, he will probably want to get back at her, an eye for an eye."

"How do you mean?" Kartik asks.

Ann supplies, "Betrayal for betrayal. The knight will come help us."

"Most High, are you certain that this will work?"

I turn and look at Min, easily reading the doubt in her posture. "Am I certain? No, Min, I'm not certain of anything anymore. But do I think that it could work. Yes, I do. What else have we to lose?"

Ann mutters to herself, "Nothing but our souls." I ignore this.

Felicity jumps in, "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get started on the details of the plan. I'll go with Philon to discuss weaponry. Ann, you go with Asha and try to work out some psychological tactics to trick the knight into coming with us."

"Or we could tell him the truth," Ann points out.

"Psychological tactics," Fee repeats stoutly. "And, Kartik… Could you please create some knapsacks and supplies for us? I've a feeling we'll need them. Plenty of cloaks, too." Kartik nods, and I can tell that he's pleased that Felicity is no longer speaking down to him.

I watch the New Order disperse, other than Min and I, and I feel like a chess player sending out her pawns to do battle while the castle and bishop remain behind. This is just like a game, as though we are once again the children we were a year ago, trying to play a prank on someone. Except, somewhere in the back of my mind, a small voice warns that we play for our lives.

I ignore the voice and look to Min. "Min, I have a favour to ask of you." She nods deeply, waiting. "Would you help me, please, to magick a more battle-ready wardrobe for me?"

"Of course, Most High." She hesitates. "Most High…"

I sigh. "Min, please. You and I are equals in the New Order, now. You _can_ call me Gemma."

"Most High," Min repeats stubbornly, and I let it go. "Most High, you have been so different from the past Order members with whom I have dealt. For that, I thank you. And I also thank you for being both daughter and mother to me, as we prepare for this ultimate battle."

I blink, startled. "Well… you're welcome, I'm sure. But the costume…?"

"Yes, of course. Follow me, Most High." With that, I follow Min the Gorgon to her tent so that the two of us may fashion a suit of battle armour as we prepare to fight a girl that I had thought was one of my best friends. I leave behind me my two remaining best friends from Spence, an Untouchable, a Forest creature, and the man that I am in love with. Never let it be said that Gemma Doyle is "conventional".

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**A/N**: Tell me what you think, please. I know, late again, but bear with me. Schooling takes precedence, because I can't update if I'm failing a class. Even so, I'm scouting around for another FFN category to write, so tell me some of your favourite books or movies on which you think I might put a good spin. The first ten reviewers will have their suggestions considered first. The first ten reviewers get another incentive: I might possibly write and e-mail a bonus chapter. Give me a scenario and I'll see what happens!  
Thanks to the Chapter 10 reviewers. Like I said earlier, free Kartik glomp! Thank you to my most consistent reviewers; I'd list you, but I don't want FFN kicking me off or pulling my story, with their stupid regulation on mentioning reviewers by name. Anyway, thank you to everyone who reads and especially to all the reviewers. Feedback helps me, readers, and I love watching the review count climb. Woo-hoo, over 100 reviews! Blessed be. 

**

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N****ext Chapter Teaser**: _"There is only one thing that I can promise right now: I am going to die. And it is going to be messy."_


	12. Surprises for the New Order

**Disclaimer**: All recognizable things belong to Libba Bray, that amazing woman who deigned to give us a glimpse into her mind. All else… Well, I suppose you could say it was mine. I would prefer you didn't, though.

**A/N**: This was without a doubt the hardest chapter to write. Hence, the late update. The only thing that kept me going? Reviews. No, seriously. C'mon, people, reviews are wonderful and give me incentive to write. Talk to me! I actually listen. I sincerely hope that the length and content of this chapter will make up for my tardiness. That said, on with the story.

**_Refresher_**: Never let it be said that Gemma Doyle is "conventional".

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**In the Realms, Chapter Twelve**

I flex my hands experimentally in my brand new leather gloves, testing the extent to which I can move my fingers. They feel fine, and I next shake my feet out, getting a feel for my new, sturdier boots. It's strange, wearing such form-fitting clothes –of course, I wear a corset, but my dresses are so voluminous that it's not as though my body is on display for all to see. I feel almost naked in this skin-tight suit of supple leather and my cheeks flush, which Min notices.

"Most High, you need not curl in around yourself," she admonishes, pulling my arms away from my ribcage. "This is a suit of armour, not your negligee. Worry less about what people see and more about if they can kill you."

What she says makes sense, and I relax slightly, although I'm still very uncomfortable. After all, one cannot remove years of breeding from one's mind in a matter of moments. I take a deep, calming breath as Asha has taught me in our meditation sessions and release it in a long, slow _whoosh_. I don't know why I'm so self-conscious about these new clothes; after all, I was wearing much less last night with Kartik, and nothing at all with Kartik in my vision. My blush heightens with the memory, though a smile teases at the edge of my lips.

"Why do you flush so, Most High?"

Min's voice breaks into my thoughts, and I look up quickly, guiltily. "Errr…" I hear footsteps coming towards Min's tent and hope, _pray_ that the person will get here before I have to answer. Saved! Fee opens the flap, revealing the bright sunlight of barely-past-noon. "Oh look, it's Fee!" I scramble to distract Min from her question. "I'll just… go see what she wants! Coming, Fee!" With that, I bound past a puzzled Gorgon and out of the tent, my cheeks still flaming. The moment I've escaped the tent's dark confines, I sigh in relief and my blush starts to fade. I turn to Felicity and realise that Ann is standing next to her; both have the air of needing to tell me something.

Then I see Kartik, chest bare and wearing only tight-fitting trousers, walking towards us and my cheeks flame right back up. My mouth falls open, and Ann hides a smirk behind her hand. Fee's grey eyes seem to be laughing at me, and one of her light blonde brows arches up in an expression of "well, what shall happen now?" Without looking, I slap her on the shoulder – not that it does any good, as she now starts laughing audibly.

"Is Miss Worthington quite all right?" I hear Kartik ask, and I turn to meet his gaze. Except he's now standing right in front of me, and my eyes land on his chest, damp with perspiration, instead of his face. A small _eep!_ of embarrassment escapes, and Kartik tilts his head inquiringly. "Perhaps I should ask if _you_ are all right, Gemma."

Felicity is still laughing, so Ann speaks for her in a reassuring tone. "Oh, she's perfectly fine, Kartik – just a small problem of _the damp_," she says with a wicked grin in my direction. I pull a face at her, and the grin widens.

"Was there any reason for you coming to Min's tent, Ann?" I ask through gritted teeth. I briefly note that Felicity has at last _shut up_, but wait for Ann's reply.

"Not for me," she tells me, still grinning. "Perhaps Fee did, though."

"Felicity?"

She laughs, her voice almost shimmering in its brightness. "Actually, I did." I wait. "I merely wanted to see the expression you'd have once you'd seen how the heat of the day affects… us."

"Felicity!" I hiss, but she only gives me a smirk and flounces away. Odd, how she can flounce even when not wearing a dress. I must learn how to do that…

"Gemma?"

Oh, right. Kartik of the bare chest and tight trousers is still here. How stupid of me to forget. I turn and this time make a point of looking _up_ to meet his gaze. "Yes, Kartik?"

"Are you _sure_ you're all right? You had the oddest expression on your face when I saw you."

I try to brush his concern off. "Odd? Whatever do you mean by odd?"

Kartik shrugs, and I can't help but notice how every muscle in his chest shifts under his tan skin as he does so. "Truthfully? You looked like a cobra watching its prey."

"How lovely," I reply dryly. "I look like a cold-blooded reptile about to devour a rat."

Kartik reaches up and runs his fingers through his hair, and I realise that he has a bow in one hand and a quiver on his back. Some leader of the New Order I am, if I can't even tell when my people are holding weaponry directly in front of me. Then again, it's not fair to distract me with his… Oh, wait, he's saying something.

"Wait, what?"

He smiles, his very white teeth contrasting with his dark skin, but I can tell that the expression doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Gemma, you and I need to talk."

I blink, startled by this abrupt turn in conversation. "Er… what?"

"We need to talk," he repeats patiently. With the hand not holding his bow, he gestures at the tent he and I shared last night. "What about in the tent?"

I swallow. "Um, sure. After you?" I follow Kartik to our tent, studiously keeping my eyes _away_ from his bare back. This all seems to be going a bit quick, oddly so; one moment I'm in Min's tent, the next I'm following Kartik into ours. Are the Realms playing with my sense of time? Or am I still in a faint, dreaming of visions that might never come true?

When next I pay attention to my surroundings, I'm sitting on the ground, my fingers absently picking at loose flax in my sleeping mat. I can practically _smell_ Kartik, an overlay of sweat mixing with his spicy, sweet scent. I don't want to look at him; why am I suddenly so nervous around him? Well, all right, I _know_ why I'm so nervous around him, but why am I acting like an idiot?

"What's wrong, Kartik?" I ask. He drops his bow and quiver to the ground, the arrows rattling noisily as they bounce. Kartik rakes his fingers through his hair again, but not even that can distract me from discovering what's bothering him so much. "Kartik… tell me."

He sits down across from me on his own sleeping mat, busying himself with pulling his shirt over his head and then nervously pleating the edge of his mat in his fingers. "Gemma, you and I need to talk," he repeats.

"Yes… you've said that already," I reply guardedly. "Kartik, what's really going on?" When he doesn't reply, I scoot forward and reach one hand towards his bicep. "Kartik?"

"Gemma, you can't die." He speaks so quickly, so abruptly that I freeze halfway through the comforting gesture, my hand never making contact with him.

I draw my hand back to rest in my lap, struggling to keep my voice neutral. "I'm not planning on it," I answer lightly.

"Please don't joke with me, Gemma," Kartik replies quietly. "I'm being rather serious."

"So am I," I whisper.

"Gemma, have you ever considered that maybe what you're sensing is Pippa's _intentions_ towards us, not actual death prophecies?" he asks. It's a good question, but not really related to our conversation.

"Well, no, but what does this have to do with me not dying?"

Kartik sighs. "You are impossible, _sanam_," he says softly. I have no idea what he just said, but it's endearing.

"What does that mean?"

He looks startled, as though he hadn't intended for me to hear him. "Er, it's rather hard to translate, but its closest relation in English would be 'beloved'." He flushes as he tells me this, but I think it's lovely.

"Kartik, you don't want me to die, do you?" I ask gently. He looks absolutely horrified that I would even _suggest_ such a thing, as well as a bit offended.

"No! In the name of Shiva, Gemma, why would I?"

Shiva. I dimly remember reading somewhere that Shiva is the dancing god of destruction. It's a bit disturbing that Kartik would invoke him in regards to me, but I can't dwell on that. "Have you thought that maybe the reason that you're acting like this is because you don't want me to die?"

Unfortunately, before Kartik can react, I hear a shout from outside. Kartik and I lock eyes and simultaneously grab for the things piled up in the corner – knapsacks, cloaks, and waterskins, all of which Kartik had evidently magicked up while Min helped me dress. With our arms piled high with things, he and I duck out of our tent to see… Min holding Felicity in what seems to be a headlock in her right arm. Fee looks rather hacked off, but Min looks almost serene as she lectures my hot-tempered friend.

"How did you get stuck in this position, Strong One?"

"Because you're bloody quick, that's how!" Fee snarls back. Min shakes her head and sighs, looking almost like a harried teacher dealing with a particularly dull-witted student.

"No, Strong One – I was able to get you into a hold because you did not expect it of me."

"Am I supposed to _expect_ my comrades to suddenly grab me in a bloody headlock, then?" Fee demands.

Min sighs again, her yellow eyes drifting over her audience until they found me. With a sharp jerk of her head, the Gorgon summons me over. I put my armload of supplies down at Kartik's feet and made my way over to the confrontation. I have no idea what Min wants me to do, but I attempt to calm Felicity down.

"Fee," I begin diplomatically, "you need to be on constant alert. Constant vigilance!" I add emphatically in case she doesn't get the point. "You have to be ready for _anything_."

"You want me to be bloody paranoid is what," she mutters, although I suspect that she was acting like this more out of embarrassment than anything else. Min had managed to incapacitate her, and that was embarrassing for her. Fee was proud of being able to shoot better than Ann and I, to have a boy grovelling after her more often than either of us, and to have more daring adventures that all of us. How it must needle her to be proven as human as the rest of us.

"Break out of it." I start in surprise; I had nearly forgotten that Kartik was still here. I turn to look at him as he strides over, his load of supplies put down with mine. "Come on, Miss Worthington – I can tell that you're dying to redeem yourself. Here's your chance: break out of her hold."

Fee rounds on him – figuratively, of course, since Min still has her locked in position. "Certainly, because breaking the hold of a mythological super-creature such as the Gorgon is right easy," she retorts sarcastically.

"I could do it," Ann offers from her perch on a boulder. I whip around, slightly abashed at not having noticed my other best friend right away. Honestly, with all the spinning about I'm doing to look at people when they speak, I'm going to develop some sort of condition.

Felicity snorts even as she struggles to get out of Min's grasp. "Sure."

"I could," Ann repeats stubbornly. She even gets up from her seat and starts towards us. "Come on, Min – grab me."

The Gorgon sighs, but releases Felicity. Once Ann is in range, Min reaches out and grabs her in the same hold that Felicity was in mere moments ago. "All right then, Song," she says tiredly, obviously certain that Ann can't do as she claims. "Prove yourself."

In a surprising move, Ann whips her left fist up into Min's sternum. Min winces, but doesn't let go. Fee has a triumphant expression on her face already, but then Ann, in what looks to be a rather painful motion, wrenches her right fist up into Min's chin. The Gorgon's head snaps back, and Ann-girl manages to kick off the ground just as Min's head is going back so that her foot and Min's skull meet in a rather resounding _crack_! Dazed, Min reaches up with her left hand to rub at her head, but Ann's left hand snakes out and grips the Gorgon's wrist tightly. Without thinking, Min releases Ann to rub at her throbbing skull, and Ann laughs as she lets go of Min's hand.

"See?" she asks, turning to face Fee and I again. "I told you I could do it."

Min appears almost proud as she looks at Ann. "Very good, Song." She turns to all of us. "She defeated me because I underestimated her. I will not be making the same mistake again, but let that be a lesson to _all_ of us."

"I had _no_ idea you could do that," Fee tells her, a trace of awe in her voice. "How did you learn that?"

Ann's smile disappears as abruptly as it came. "When you're at the bottom of the social class," she says softly, her eyes on the ground, "a lot of people will hurt you unless you hurt them first."

An awkward silence hangs over the group until Fee breaks it with applause. "No matter _how_ you learned it, Ann-girl, that was amazing. I'm proud just knowing you!" Ann looks up, a smile starting to spread over her face. Fee goes over and slings an arm over Ann's shoulders. "So, could you explain to me…?" She starts leading Ann away, probably to discuss attacks in a quieter area. Kartik glances over at me, and I understand perfectly what he wants to say.

Is that _really_ Felicity Worthington?

Unexpectedly, Asha comes bustling over, Philon at her side. Her face is shining in her excitement, and I step back in surprise. Kartik and I exchange mystified glances, and he rolls his neck back to loosen it – almost as if in preparation for a fight.

"Priestess," Asha says excitedly. "Priestess, Philon and I have a _plan_."

I tilt my head in what I hope is an inquisitive manner. "Oh really? Tell me."

Philon takes over, "You see, it concerns what you and the others were telling us about the Witchling's knight. We think that we have found a way to contact him."

Min's yellow eyes narrow. "Explain, creature," she orders imperiously. I had quite forgotten just how arrogant Min could be; around me, she's so… not necessarily humble, but she acts unassuming. As an immortal creature created from the line of a woman of once-legendary beauty, I suppose that I can understand her egotism.

Sparing Min a brief glare, Philon continues, "This knight is linked to the original magick of the Garden, where you and your comrades first discovered the magick of the Realms. He was created there, and can be summoned back."

"By Pippa," I interject. It's common knowledge that only the creator can alter the state of the created. However, perhaps I am wrong, since Philon is shaking his head so emphatically. Or… is he just stretching? Curse it, I can never tell with that Forest creature! Ann and Felicity have returned at this point, and both look slightly confused. They'll simply have to listen until they catch up.

"_You_ are now the Temple for the magick," he reminds me. "You are the magick consolidated, personified, made whole and human. You _are_ the magick, in essence. You control what is the magick and what is not!"

My green eyes widen. "Can I disarm her?" Everyone in my council of war – for truly, though we stand about, squinting under a blazing sun, we are a war council– looks a bit confused at my divergence from our conversation. I sigh in frustration and clarify, "Pippa. If she is a creature of magick, can I not simply take her magick away from her, or remove her from power?"

Kartik brightens at the idea, but Asha shakes her head. "No, Priestess. She ate of the Realms and went to the Winterlands; she is no longer of your power. She has had sacrifices made to her, and now has some power of her own. Getting rid of her will not be as easy as that."

"Oh." I'm a bit deflated, but then I remember what led me to this topic. "Wait, I can call her golden knight _here_ to the Garden?"

Philon has an odd expression on his features. Might he possibly be smiling? "Quite," he answers dryly.

"Well." A pleased grin is spreading over my face. "That's different."

"So?" Kartik urges, his dark eyes gleaming. "Let's do it, then!"

Asha breaks in, "We need to prepare, first."

Min looks over at her. "Prepare for what, Untouchable?"

Asha doesn't look disturbed at the epithet. "We must prepare for the ceremony, for the ritual to call this Golden Knight back to the Garden. He is currently in the Winterlands, and so will require more magick than if we were merely transporting him from the Falls to here."

Ann breaks in, intrigued, "Wait, what are the Falls? Can we go there?"

Asha looks over at her with a tiny smile on her lips. "Perhaps later, dear one – _after_ we have destroyed the threat to our Realms?"

Ann looks properly contrite. "Oh. Right."

Philon continues, "We will need three things: an athame; the powder of goodness; and the essence of magick."

"What's an ah-thuh-may?" Fee asks, enunciating the syllables. "And where will we find the other things?"

Philon answers, "An athame is a ceremonial knife. The one I have in mind is a silver blade studded with stars and an acorn hanging off the bone-white handle."

"And where will we find that?" Fee demands.

"In my hut," he replies coolly. "That will be your job, my fury. Go to my hut and retrieve the blade." Fee looks embarrassed by her untimely question, but she bows in acceptance of her task.

Before Felicity can leave on her errand, Min cuts in, "I know what the powder of goodness is. I have had it tossed at me many a time by people who did not understand that Gorgons wish only to live their lives in peace. Of course," she observes dryly, "we may eat a trespasser or two, but we're not evil."

"Eat?" Ann squeaks, her hands over her mouth and her complexion whiter than any lead and arsenic cream could get it. "W-what do you mean _eat_?"

Sharp teeth gleam in the sunlight as Min gives a rare smile. "Only my personal brand of wit, Song. You see, the powder of goodness is what you call salt."

"Oh." Ann actually laughs, now that she understands. Her face is still unnaturally pale, but I'm sure that the affliction will pass. "All right. Do you have any?"

Min's expression fades until once again, she is the stoic Gorgon. "In fact, I do. On my ship."

I look over at her quickly. "Wait. Your ship? I thought that once you were restored to your original state of existence, the ship ceased to be."

"Not at all," she answers mildly. "Why would you think that? _I_ was **_bound_** to the _ship_; I was not made to take the shape of one. Before the Order forced me into that wretched punishment, that ship was used for trading among the tribes. One of the tribes of sea-dwellers traded salt in exchange for the use of the Realms' textiles, and I am certain that there are still some of both down in the cargo hold of the ship."

"Ah," is all that I can think to answer. "But… the essence of magick? I destroyed the crystals ages ago, so how in the Realms will we manage to find magick's core?"

Asha looks at me, her expression grim. "We have _you_, Priestess. For you are the Temple, you are the magick." This not precisely being an answer, I wait. "We will need your blood."

Suddenly I feel rather faint. It's not a vision, though; it's merely… well, they want my _blood_? I can hardly stand the word, much less having to see it! I suppose that is one thing that Spence has taught me in their many trainings to be a "lady" – you must faint at the sight of blood. I refuse to faint at the _word_, however; that's simply stupid. So I take a deep breath and try to look brave.

"My blood? Well, how much of it?" _'Please don't say all, please don't say all, please don't say all,'_ I pray with all my might, although I have no idea to whom I might be praying.

"Not much." Asha looks a rather uncertain as she says this, though, and that does nothing to ease my nerves.

Kartik breaks in, "How much is not much, Asha?" I spare a glance for him, and he looks absolutely _stormy_ as he demands this of her.

She shifts uncomfortably. "Perhaps a goblet, but no more than that."

Fee looks rather dubious at the entire conversation. "How big are the goblets here?"

Philon decides to interrupt now. "You need not worry. Now, run and fetch the athame from my hut as I bade you earlier. Be as fleet footed as Artemis herself!" he calls after Fee as she obeys his instructions. After a moment or so, he rears up and gallops after her – I suppose in order to keep an eye on her. Felicity is not a thief, but some of the weaponry in Philon's tent might prove too enticing to our Strength.

"Come with me, Song-child," Min bids Ann kindly. "Aid me as I search the belly of my once jailer in search of the powder of goodness." Ann nods and follows the Gorgon down another path. If I strain, I can just hear the lapping of water. I suppose that the ship can be found quite near here. Bit of luck that everything is so close to us. Or is that merely the magick of the Realms – or me? Whatever it may be, it gives me little time in which to prepare for this ceremony. I don't even know what I have to do!

"Asha," I begin, hating how my voice trembles even as I fight to keep it under control. "Asha, would you mind detailing the actual ceremony for me?"

Her gaze softens when she looks at me, which does not seem to be a good thing. "Of course, Priestess. Come with me, so that we may talk…"

Kartik interrupts, "I will come with you." I look over at him, uncertain how to react, but he doesn't return my gaze. "I refuse to let the two of you go off alone. Only yesterday" – my God, was it only yesterday? – "we were attacked by shapeshifters from Pippa. I will not let Gemma die." Almost as an afterthought, he adds, "Besides, if you all leave me here, who's to say that nothing will happen to _me_ either?"

Her features drawn as though displeased, Asha simply gestures down a path. Kartik nods and takes the lead, striding ahead of us – almost as if he knows where we're going. Of course, that's impossible. We walk for what seems a very short time; when Asha finally calls to Kartik to halt, a warm, damp has arisen. It's not Pippa-mist, however – it seems as normal a mist as one can ever see in the Realms – but when the greyness recedes from our eyesight, it reveals the Caves of Sighs.

Kartik and I blush red simultaneously, my flush the brighter for my fairer skin and my struggle to keep my composure in the face… er, legs of the statues. When I look up, though, I squeak. The statues of the women are no longer alone. Young men, modelled after the face I had seen while visiting Asha to be painted for the first time, have the women entwined in a close embrace, and the women have a new expression of rapture on their features. Additionally, both sexes now wear the barest garments of propriety – not that it hides much.

Asha tilts her head to one side inquiringly. "What is wrong, Priestess? Why do you redden so, _humsafar_?" The last she directs at Kartik, who flushes even more.

"What does that mean, Kartik?" I ask softly. I can tell that it's Hindi, but I'm certainly not fluent.

He shakes his head sharply. "I… Later. I promise I'll tell you later."

I stare at him for a moment, but then remember why I am here. "Asha, you said that you would explain to me in full detail what the ceremony would entail. Please… won't you tell me now?"

She gives a solemn nod. "Come. We shall speak in the Caves." Asha leads the way, the mist rapidly dissipating as she guides us among the rocky cliffs. After only a few minutes, the three of us are standing before the old Temple. Kartik knows nothing of my previous dealings here with Sarah, and therefore looks uncommonly puzzled when I shudder as we pass through the waterfall's hazy embrace.

"Are you all right?" he murmurs in my ear.

"I'll be fine," I answer shortly. I turn resolutely away from him, not willing to see his expression, and look at Asha. "The ceremony?" I remind her.

"Yes, of course, Priestess." She's standing above a pool of water and now waves her hands over its surface. I approach her perch and climb up behind her. Once I'm standing next to her, I look down and see… images. "It is a reflecting pool, Priestess, but it does not reflect us. It shows us that which we seek." Asha waves one hand, and the pool shows Kartik and I locked in an embrace. I flush, but Asha doesn't comment. "It shows us that which perhaps not even we realise we desire." Another wave of her hand, and now I see Pippa lying dead and the Winterlands in ruins.

Now I am impatient. "Asha, the ceremony!"

Rather than looking annoyed, as I would have expected, she looks rather serene. "You only have to desire to see it, Priestess. It will show you what you most wish to see."

My mouth tightens. "I don't want to _see_ it, I asked you to _tell_ me of it."

It seems that Asha is as stubborn as both Felicity and I are. "Look into the pool and tell me what you see."

I sigh, but do as I am told. I look down, down, down into the great maw of water, willing myself to see something. I can see nothing but darkness, but as I look harder, I see… myself. I am standing in the middle of a circle of whiteness, my arms raised high and the golden athame in my right hand. My reflection's mouth moves, but I can hear nothing of what I say, and then my other self sketches some sign in the air with (her? our? my?) left hand before swiftly bringing both arms down in a slicing motion. Everything fades to crimson.

When I shake my head and look up, Asha looks pleased. "Very good, Priestess. Do you know what you must do now?"

"Yes," I answer, my voice sounding strange and otherworldly to my ears. "I do." Then I frown, and the moment of oddity is gone. "But what am I to say?"

She pats my arm. "You'll know what to do when it's time, as you did in that shielding spell. I trust you. I have faith in you." Somehow, that doesn't make me feel better. But it seems that I'm out of time, because now Asha is gesturing for me to step down from this small cliff. I carefully make my way down, studiously ignoring Kartik as I do so. I don't know why, but I simply can't look at him right now. He's so concerned about me, but it seems to hinder me rather than please me.

"Come along, Priestess and _humsafar_," Asha instructs, holding her hands out. The gesture is eerily reminiscent of my mother reaching out for Tom and I to keep us close. Kartik and I obediently take her hands, and then link hands ourselves with no urging from Asha. Together, the three of us close our eyes and transport ourselves back to the campsite. Now that I think about it, why did Asha have us _walk_ to the Caves, instead of merely magicking ourselves there? Perhaps, if I am still alive at the end of this ceremony, I will ask her.

Within a few heartbeats, we have arrived back at our encampment. It seems that we are just in time, too, since I can see Philon cantering back into the heart of our base of operations with Felicity running at his side; she is as fleet footed as a deer, and she hoists a blue silk scabbard high in the air with a triumphant smile. From the northern part of the site come Min and Ann, the latter floating a sort of knapsack along in front of her. From the speckles following her path, I suspect that a bit of salt has trickled out since they left the ship. But there is still more than enough salt for the ritual I saw in the Reflecting Pool.

I lift my gaze to the sky, but can no longer tell the time by the position of the sun. It has been years since I lived in India, and I fear that I will never again have the skills that I once had. Feeling slightly put out, I turn to Kartik and ask, "What time is it?"

He looks to the sky as I had tried to do, but his brow furrows in perplexity. "That can't be right," he mutters.

"What? What time is it?"

Kartik looks at me, his eyes dark with something indefinable emotion. "The sky is darkening already, but not with storm clouds. Night is coming. Sundown is in about an hour and a half."

"That's certainly strange." I look to Asha for answers. "Asha, what's going on?"

Her face is grim as she replies, "I know not, Priestess, but I suspect that we should do the ritual quickly as possible. We must hurry." That said, she quickly utters something in some foreign tongue, to which both Philon and Min respond. I have no idea what they're saying, but now all three of them are moving about, Asha clearing the ground of rocks and limbs as best she can, Min taking the knapsack from Ann's magick to begin pouring the salt out onto the cleared earth, and Philon taking the athame from Felicity's grip to sharpen it with a stone.

Kartik moves up behind me and grips my wrist tightly in one hand. I turn to look at him, to see what's wrong, but he doesn't say anything, instead kissing me very lightly on the mouth. When I kiss him back, Kartik relaxes his grip on my wrist and runs his hand up along my arm until it rests on my shoulder. The kiss isn't hurried or clandestine as our encounters have been up till now, but that isn't what surprises me. No, it's Felicity's careful non-response that startles me most, even though I know she's looking right at us. Perhaps she's finally accepting Kartik for who he is, not his country of origin. Or perhaps she simply realises that I will not be so lenient to her badmouthing him again. With another, carefully chaste kiss, Kartik and I finally break apart.

"Most High." Min is watching us with some amusement in her gaze, but I meet her eyes resolutely. No more of this blushing bride business; I have come to the Realms to be a warrior, not to faint and pretend that I am not attracted to Kartik. After all, who will the Gorgon tell? Or any of my friends, for that matter?

"Yes, Min?"

"The time has come." She holds one hand out to me, beckons me into the circle of whiteness. I step in cautiously, not willing to ruin the design drawn in salt for fear of having to redraw the whole thing over again. Once I am sturdily on my feet, Philon comes up beside me and hands me the athame.

"Be careful, child," he warns me. "I have honed it to the finest edge possible."

I accept the blade from his hand and then turn to look at Asha. The symbol drawn in salt seems to be that of a six-pointed star, a Jewish Star of David, with each of my comrades at a point. Asha stands at the northernmost point, the clockwise order as follows: Philon, Felicity, Min at the southern and my back, Ann, and Kartik. Even though I know that they are there, I focus on none but Asha; she must guide me through this. She looks at me and gives a deep nod. It is time to begin.

I lift my chin up to the heavens and begin chanting. None of this has been planned, but it simply _feels_ right. I suppose that when I became the Temple for the magick of the Realms, I also absorbed the consciousnesses of past Order members. I now carry their knowledge within me, to use as needed in defence of the Realms against Pippa. And though I know what I intend to say, some magick in the air, in the circle, or in the Realms is giving me the ability to speak a different language altogether. With the crackling surrounding the air in the clearing, this must be the language of magick, a long-forgotten language in my world.

"Rzehk ja tu wuzu jwu kadfuh qhekwj… E ruluunw jwuu eh jwu hitu ob jwu Azfuz!" The magick surging through me is almost overwhelming in its intensity, and I cry out. Then a cool voice seems to fill my thoughts, reminding me to complete the ceremony. I take a deep breath and continue. "E nattihf oay eh jwu hitu eh ludpuz, jwu xamfuz eh kaafhull, ihf ro jwu ulluhne eh _tikenq_!"

With the last word, I gesture as I once saw my mother do in India – a clawed hand towards my heart and then a shoving motion outward – and then bring the athame up to draw the blade across the base of my neck, the only place I can easily get to without cutting through my own armour. Blood begins running down my skin, so I bend at the waist to force the flow towards the earth at my feet. The moment my lifeblood, the essence of magick touches the salt, a great tremor runs through me. I begin shaking uncontrollably, my head jerking backwards suddenly enough to make the bones crack. It hurts.

"Gemma!" Kartik sound so afraid, so afraid… I want to comfort him, but I can hardly breathe; how could I ease his fear when I myself am so scared? "Gemma, you can't leave us!" What is he talking about, leaving them? Am I fading with the force of the magick coursing through me? "Gemma Doyle, _promise_ you won't leave us!" My God, he sounds positively frantic now. But there is only one thing that I can promise right now: I am going to die. And it is going to be messy.

Then an unearthly howl fills my ears, and I drop to my knees in the circle of salt. I lift one shaking hand to my self-inflicted wound, my eyes unseeing as I try to return to reality. When I finally focus on the world around me, the first thing I see is Pippa's golden knight, staring about him in wonder and no little fear. He doesn't seem inclined to put up a fight, however, which is good news for the New Order; we hadn't even _thought_ to bring weapons should he prove hostile. When I see the defensive-aggressive positions of my comrades, though, I realise that I must have been the only person not to bring something, since even Ann holds a weapon in her grasp.

"By my Goddess Pippa, where have I landed?" the knight asks in a deep baritone.

I look at my friends, unsure what to say, unsure if I can even speak after the ceremony I just performed. Then Min steps forward in all her Gorgon glory and asserts, "Thou art returned to us, William."

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**A/N**: Ideas, concerns, questions, comments, speculations, complaints? Perhaps flames, although I will only use them to toast marshmallows. No matter what you have to say, say it, for Luna is fearless! Feedback is one of my favourite things. I just love opening up my inbox and seeing the review alerts. C'mon guys, make my day.  
I realise that this is a bit late in coming, but… you know how it goes. Consider this chapter an overdue update, a very belated Christmas gift, and a slightly tardy New Year's celebration. Happy Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanza, solstice – whatever holiday you happened to celebrate, reader. Cheers… Blessed be.

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**Next Chapter Teaser**: _"I swear by all that is sacred that I will be the Winter Queen's downfall."_


	13. Making Ready

**Disclaimer**: All recognizable things belong to Libba Bray, that amazing woman who deigned to give us a glimpse into her mind. All else… Well, I suppose you could say it was mine. I would prefer you didn't, though. And also, this chapter only, a line from Frank Beddor's The Looking Glass Wars used; great book – go read! First five people who spot it get a special treat sent to their e-mails.

**A/N**: My internet service blocked FFN, so I had this chapter ready ages ago, but am only now able to update. I'm so sorry! Anyway, I love writing, and I am delighted that this story has garnered such a great response. Please don't hesitate to criticise or give me your opinions on my writing. Thank you to those who have stuck with me from the beginning, through the sporadic updates, short chapters, plot twists, and revelations. This one's for you.

**_Refresher_**: Then Min steps forward in all her Gorgon glory and asserts, "Thou art returned to us, William."

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**In the Realms, Chapter Thirteen**

Blood still seeps out from between my fingers as I attempt to stand. I falter more than once as I gain my footing, and for once Kartik isn't there to catch me. How very irritating that not only do I notice, but I _mind_. For all my whinging about how he was "suffocating" me and "stifling me," I liked it. I shove my petty concerns away for now though, since I have to deal with Pippa's Golden Knight and somehow convince him to betray his love, his queen, his goddess.

"Who are…," the young man begins, and then his gaze lands on Philon. He blanches and, his hand straying dangerously close to the hilt of his sword, demands, "What _are_ you?"

"I am Philon of the Forest," Philon tells him, and I can see the knight wince. I feel a flash of sympathy for him since it took me quite a while to get used to Philon's unusual voice, but then I remember why he's here and why I'm bleeding from the collarbone.

"Here, Gemma," a voice says quietly in my ear, and I manage to turn my head to see who's speaking. It's Ann, and she's offering me a damp cloth, presumably to staunch the blood flow.

"Thank you, Ann." I take the cloth and willingly press it to my throat. I look up at my friend to say something else, but have to blink very hard before she comes into focus. "I think I want to lie down now…," I mutter.

Felicity hasn't moved from her spot, and I can see that she's holding a bow and arrow, aimed at the knight's head. And… there's another Felicity behind her. Or is that my strange eyesight? I squint; no, there are two Felicity Worthingtons right now, each with an arrow pointed at someone. The one standing at the vertex of the salt star is aiming at the knight; the other is aiming at… Min?

"All right, Gorgon, out with it," one of the Felicitys spits, sounding thoroughly disgusted. "How do you know this… this _thing_?"

Min doesn't look the least bit disturbed, perturbed, or any other –urbed that one might utilise to describe what I would be feeling in the same situation. "Quite simple, Strong One – or should I say Strong Ones?" Both Felicitys scowl, but one of them shimmers out of being, leaving behind her bow. Once our Fee is the only one left, Min continues, "He is of the Realms, as am I. Before I was trapped into servitude, he was one of the knights assigned to guard the ship as it traded among tribes."

Ann blinks; as she has been doing as of late, she says what I am thinking: "The Realms have _knights_? So then Pippa _didn't_ create this… William from her own imagination?"

The knight – William – now looks to me, his hand relaxing away from the pommel of his blade. "I know you," he mutters to himself. "I remember… Argh!" He falls to the ground, his hands pressing insistently at his eyes. "Shut up, shut up, shut up," he growls in a low chant, attempting to ward something or some_one_ away. When he looks up, his eyes are clear of whatever emotion was confusing him.

"Well done," he says in a cold voice as he unfastens his sword belt from his waist. Philon steps forward and takes it from his grasp, slinging the belt over his shoulder "Well played, Priestess," he adds, sketching a mockery of a bow in my direction. "What do you plan to do with me, now that you have me? If it is a trade that you think of, do not waste time on such notions any longer; the Winter Queen will not barter with such beings as yourselves." William snorts and adds derisively, "My Goddess of the Winterlands, you can't even conduct a summoning properly, can you?"

I stiffen angrily, irritated that he mocks my pain. The abrupt movement proves too much for my careful balance, though, and I sway on my feet.

"Gemma!" Ann's startled cry jerks me out of my dizziness, and I straighten myself resolutely. She steps closer to me, lowering her voice so that William can't hear. "Be careful, Gemma," she whispers in a trembling voice. "You can't let him see your weakness."

"Hello!" I look up at William's annoyed expression and the inane observation that he apparently has quite a passion for the dramatic pops into my head. "Trying to surrender, here!"

Min looks at William steadily, the snakes of her hair silent for once. "Knight, listen to me…"

"Oh shut up, Gorgon," he snaps harshly. "You've stolen me, captured me, it's all fair and done!"

Fee steps up beside Ann and me, her grey eyes narrowed in contemplation. "He doesn't understand," she says under her breath. "Gemma, you need to prove to him why we brought him here."

I press harder against my throat and look at her tiredly. "Felicity, I'm a bit drained here. Can't _you_ give it a go?" Asha turns when she hears me say "drained," and her eyes widen when she realises that I'm still bleeding. She quickly digs through the satchel at her side, emerging with some sort of a scarf covered in a kind of liniment that she hands to me.

"Press it against your throat, Priestess," she murmurs. "It should staunch the wound and partially heal it. I made the poultice myself."

With shaking fingers, I accept the healing item gratefully. Ann helps me bring it to my neck, to press and hold it against my wound. Within a few minutes, I feel… not stronger, but certainly less weak. I can move at a normal rate without keeling over or having irritating black dots dancing at the edge of my vision. Now that I can see again, I notice that Kartik is binding William's arms behind his back and Min is speaking to him in a low, earnest voice. My balance restored, I reach out for both Felicity and Ann's hands.

"What are we doing?" Fee whispers, one foot tapping nervously; she has her back to William and, though he is restrained, she has a warrior's reflexive response to an enemy behind her.

"Proving to William that we didn't bring him here to kill him," I whisper back. "I need to show him what I saw and heard – Pippa on the march, I mean. But I need your help, both of you. I'm too weak to do it on my own."

Ann nods and tightens her fingers around mine. "What do you want us to do?"

"I'm going to describe it again," I explain. "While I do that, you two have to somehow dream it up into something that everyone can see. You have to listen to what I'm saying, but you also have to make it realistic." Ann opens her mouth to ask a question, but I forge on, "I know, it sounds wretchedly difficult, but otherwise he'll merely be a prisoner."

Fee looks confused. "What else would he be, Gemma?"

I swallow hard; I hadn't told anyone about the other part of my plan, most likely because it hadn't occurred to me until just now. "I think we should make him a part of the New Order."

"_What?_" both Fee and Ann blurt out, distressed by my statement. In their shock, they drop my hands so that I am effectively excluded from the semi-embrace.

I clench my jaw and hiss, "Just create what I remember!" Ann and Felicity exchange a doubting glance, but they again take my hand. "All right. Let's try this," I murmur, and launch into a description of what I had seen in Pippa's tent – Agerthan, the bloody meal, the kiss, the magick, all of it. I keep my eyes closed during the whole thing, trying desperately to remember every detail of it; one small thing that I believe insignificant could very well be the proof needed for William.

"Gemma," Fee whispers urgently, tugging at my hand. She tugs until my eyes fly open, and she squeezes my fingers. "Gemma, I think it's working."

I look around, marvelling at the façade that Felicity and Ann together have erected. It looks exactly like the tent in which I saw Pippa and her subject, and I nearly gag when I realise that my friends have transported the stench of the rotting bird of prey that was Pippa's meal. On the other side of the tent, Kartik, Philon, Asha, Min, and William are all frozen as they watch my vision play out for themselves. When Agerthan and Pippa kiss, I can see William stiffen and give a little moan of pain, and I pity him. Once the black sparkles dance over Pippa's fingers again, the vision fades, and we are all left staring at each other silently. Then William breaks the spell of silence.

"Liars, the lot of you!" His eyes are wide and wild, and I am grateful that Philon had taken charge of his sword. "Why have you kidnapped me from my domain? Send me _back_!" Then his eyes land on me, on the blood slowly drying on my skin. "You," he hisses hatefully, straining against his bonds. "_Priestess_."

Kartik jogs over and steps in front of me protectively, his hand automatically reaching back to keep out of harm's way. "Stay back," he orders William coldly.

William laughs shrilly. "As though the Realms would permit me to have of her essence! I have no real power of my own. When Queen Pippa comes and destroys you all, though, I will be at her side as she takes control of the magick. My Queen will drink of her blood and eat of her flesh, and there will be much rejoicing throughout all the Realms!" His eyes narrow. "My Goddess would never believe such a poor charade had been created in her name. She will find it humorous and perhaps bestow upon me a gift of magick in return for making her laugh."

Asha shakes her head sorrowfully at the poor, deluded fool. "No, William," she says gently. "You have it completely wrong. Our Priestess is the Temple of the Realms now, and she holds the magick within her. Your so-called 'Queen' could never lay a grubby finger on the pure magick of the New Order. No, she is forced to relegate herself to black witchery and evil spells. Is that what you want, Sir Knight?"

William dithers for a moment; I can actually _see_ him wavering. Then his jaw sets and the moment is gone. "She is my Queen and a much stronger ruler of the Realms she will be than _this_ chit." He jerks his chin at me.

Philon steps forward and yanks William's hair, forcing the knight to bare his neck – almost as though for an execution. "You will have a civil tongue when addressing the Temple of the Realms," he growls, "or Philon will cut yours out." Philon tugs on the knight's hair again and demands, "Now apologize."

William rolls his eyes towards me, hatred effusing from his very skin. "I apologize," he says tightly.

"I accept your apology," I retort, stepping forward so that I stand abreast of Kartik. The moment I say so, Philon releases William's hair and steps back to stand aligned with Felicity and Min. The meaning is unmistakable: the three greatest warriors of the New Order do not trust this man.

The knight's jaw works intently as though he's attempting to bite back his anger. He can't control his voice, though, and he spits out, "When the Winter Queen comes, your blood will spill red upon the snow, and she will reward the greatest of her followers with shares in _your_ magick."

Asha hesitates, then sighs heavily. "You don't understand, Sir Knight. We do not _serve_ the Priestess."

William laughs harshly. "Oh, so then she serves you? Please, Untouchable – I have not been away from servitude long enough to forget the Order."

"Wait, what?" I blurt. "You served the Order?"

His hand flexes involuntarily, as though he is longing for his sword. "My Queen was right," he murmurs. "I really must learn to still my tongue."

Fee steps forward, her hands on her hips and her mouth twisted to express her dissatisfaction with William's replies. "You will answer our questions, _William_," she sneers. "Or you will answer to _me_."

His eyes flick over her, not in an improper manner, but it still has me blushing hotly on Felicity's behalf. "I answer to you?" William asks, clearly not impressed by her threat. "I, a knight of the highest division, answer to some hot-headed chit who thinks that she is impervious to fear, to death? I think not."

Her chin tilts up challengingly. "Whether you believe me matters not," Fee replies airily, "as long as you realise that your life is in the hands of the New Order."

William barks out a short laugh. "You see?" he demands of Asha, jerking his chin towards Felicity and then me. "They have even taken on the name of our oppressors! And yet you still _serve_ them?"

Asha tilts her head to one side contemplatively. "And yet _you_ still serve your so-called Winter Queen?" she counters quietly. "She is a worse oppressor than even the Order once was, William. And she is using your devotion against you." She steps forward so that this knight must meet her gaze. "Tell me, William – how is it that you came into her thrall?"

He holds Asha's gaze for a moment more, but then his eyes drop to the dirt. "All these questions," he starts brazenly, but some nuance of tone reveals that he's nervous. "I might even think that you were interested in my past." William looks up, stares hard at Min. "Or is my past interested in me?"

Min steps closer to the knight, making certain to remain about equidistance from Philon and Felicity in case he tries to bolt, and then bends down so that William is forced to look her in the face – but not in the eyes, I notice. William takes no chances with being turned to stone, even though I have yet to see this awesome power at work. "You and I need to ssspeak, William," she hisses. "_Alone_."

She's uneasy. She hasn't hissed in such a long time that I'd forgotten how it sounded, but some strong emotion must have her in its grasp for her hisses to reappear. There must be some history behind this that I don't know, some _personal_ reason for why Asha chose this knight to be taken. Then Min drops into some tongue that I don't understand or have perhaps forgotten. William tilts his head forward as if to listen, though, so I must assume that Min is deliberately adopting this tongue to prevent us from eavesdropping.

Kartik leans over and murmurs in my ear, "I can't seem to understand – there are so many undercurrents of a common past that I don't know about. What are they discussing?"

I bite my lip, feeling distressingly uncertain. "I don't know."

Ann rubs her hand over her cheekbone and lips, as though trying to scrub away her ignorance. "Felicity, do you know what's happening?"

The tendons in Felicity's throat are taut, her jaw is set, and her lips very white, a sure sign that she's vexed by this as much as the rest of us are. "I have no idea."

Min finally steps back, away from William, her scaly face tight with some unnamed emotion and the snakes of her hair hissing restlessly. She turns to me, and I am grateful to note that her voice has returned to normal as she asks, "Most High, will you permit Philon, Asha, and I some time alone with William?"

"Of course," I reply, puzzled. "Kartik, Ann, Felicity – what say you?" They murmur assents, but are all looking to me to discover why Min wishes such a thing. "But, Min… Why?"

Her already thin mouth tightens faintly, but she answers, "I think that we can convince him to believe us." I must look apprehensive, because she hastens to reassure me, "We only wish to speak to him. We will not physically damage him in any manner, I swear by the Temple."

Encouraged, I nod and impulsively embrace her. "Be careful, won't you, Min?" I request when I let her go.

"As you wish, Most High." With that, Min bows and strides towards the still-bound William and his guards. She murmurs a few unintelligible words to them, and then they collect the Golden Knight and begin walking away – so that they can conduct their interview in private, I assume.

I turn to face my friends, my comrades, with what I hope is a light-hearted expression. "Well then," I say cheerily, "I suppose we shall go exploring then. Which way?"

With an almost uncharacteristic thoughtfulness, Felicity suggests, "Ann and I would like to visit the Temple grove, where you once said you met your mother. You described it so beautifully that we would like to see it for ourselves." She glances at me from coquettishly lowered lashes. "And I suppose that you and _Kar_tik can go exploring wherever you please," Fee teases.

"That's true," I muse, glancing up at Kartik. "What would you like to see, Kartik?"

He looks down at me, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Wherever you please, Gemma. What do you want me to see?"

I blink, startled. "Uh… I honestly don't know very many places here," I admit. "I know the River, the Temple, the Garden, the Grove, and the Mermaids' Lair, but they're all so close together that they don't seem very distinct places to visit."

Kartik very lightly runs one finger over my hand, a shockingly intimate caress for such an innocuous gesture. "In that case, perhaps you and I could spar, as Miss Worthington and the Gorgon were doing earlier." His eyes flick to Ann, standing straight beside Felicity, and a sly grin appears on his features as he adds, "And as Lady Ann was doing." Ann flushes prettily, and I wish that _my_ face had the ability to redden attractively.

"T'was nothing," she murmurs, but I can see the pride in her shining eyes.

"Well then, we'll be off," Felicity breaks in. "Come along, Ann. Perhaps you and I can also get some battle exercises in while we are visiting the _grove_."

"The grove?" Ann mutters, puzzled for a moment. "The grove? Oh! The _grove_!" She smiles impishly in my direction. "Yes, well, we'll be off to the _grove_ now. We'll see you later, Gemma, Kartik." With a wave tossed over her shoulder, Ann links arms with Felicity and strides off down a path.

Too late, I remember about the shielding around the campsite. As I turn to warn and remind my friends of its existence, I realise that they have disappeared from sight. I take a few steps forward, thinking that Ann and Felicity will reappear any moment. When they don't, I reach out to feel for the shielding, and my hands bump into something solid. "Where did they go?" I ask plaintively, not addressing anyone in particular. Then a small voice in the back of my mind asks softly, _'Does it matter?'_

The voice has a point. I glance over at Kartik, his brow twisted in perplexity. "Um, so where shall we go, then?" Even to my own ears, my voice is high and nervous.

In contrast, Kartik's deeper voice rumbles, "Let's simply explore." White teeth flash in a smile and he steps forward next to me, offering me his arm as though we are a lord and gentlelady out for a stroll. The smile widens with pleased surprise when, instead of tucking my hand through his arm, I gently tug his arm loose and lace my fingers with his.

"We can start right there," I offer, gesturing slightly to the side of where Fee and Ann disappeared. Kartik leans over slightly, brow furrowing until he sees the brightly lit path that winds its way up a verdant hill.

"As you please," Kartik returns genially. We step forward together, and I instinctively hold my breath in expectance of hitting the unseen barrier. My lips part with a relieved sigh when we walk onto the path with nothing happening. Then I glance over my shoulder and breathe in sharply – I can't see the campground! The force of my gasp causes the hiccups, and I have to stop in the middle of the path with one hand on my stomach and the other over my mouth to try and force them down.

Kartik notices that I'm no longer walking forward – probably because my stopping jerks him back hard enough that he stumbles. "Gemma? What's wrong?" A stilted hiccup is his only answer, and his voice quakes when he repeats, "What's _wrong_?"

I turn, intending to reassure him that I'm fine, I only have the hiccups, but instead scowl when I see his expression. His voice wasn't quaking because he was worried about me, his voice was quaking because he was _laughing_ at me! Kartik is bent over, evidently trying to keep his laughter silent, but his shaking shoulders reveal otherwise. I open my mouth to scold him, and a hiccup escapes instead. This last hiccup proves too much for Kartik, and the laughter bursts out of him. I don't think that I've ever heard him laugh before, not a real laugh, and it surprises me. His laugh sounds dark and sweet, all the more special since it's so rare.

"It's not funny," I grumble. Another hiccup sounds, and I stamp my foot in frustration as Kartik dissolves into laughter again. "How do I get rid of them?"

Still snorting with laughter, Kartik stands and puts an arm around my shoulders. "I have heard many theories on banishing hiccups, but none work so well as scaring them away."

"Scaring?"

I don't know what Kartik is about to say, but then I see something that scares me more than anything Kartik could have said or done. A black winged shadow skitters across the hill, and my heart leaps into my throat, remembering the hunters that tried to seduce Pippa into riding with them. I shrink back into Kartik's chest, my breath coming short as fear overwhelms me. Kartik instinctively slides his arms around me, pressing me against him in a protective gesture.

"What is that?" he asks, his voice vibrating against my back.

I bury my face in my hands, torn between crying and screaming. "I think it's the shapeshifter. Agerthan."

Kartik slides one hand from around my waist and reaches up to rub my shoulder reassuringly. "Ssh, don't worry, Gemma. He can't see us."

"Then he must be blind," I whisper hysterically.

His hands smooth over my skin comfortingly. "Gemma, calm down. You're panicking. What has Asha told you about panicking?"

"I can't remember!" Kartik's fingers don't cease their stroking, providing something to focus on until I can control myself. I direct my attention to my breathing, forcing myself to breathe more slowly, inhaling deeply through my nose and exhaling slowly through my mouth. _'Panic severs control, ruins concentration. It is only an obstacle to be overcome,'_ I remember, relaxing my grip on Kartik's forearms and allowing calm to sweep through my body. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. Thank Asha." Kartik lets go of me, but keeps our hands interlocked, lacing his fingers through mine in a gesture of familiarity. "Especially for the painting that may have saved our lives." He nods down at our fingers, upon which brown patterns are fading.

"You're right." I look up at the top of the hill, suddenly and inexplicably uneasy. "Erm… I think I've had enough fresh air for a while. Shall we go back?"

A misty voice rings out from behind one of the trees, "'Ware the preybrid!"

I let go of Kartik's hand and turn towards the tree, but it's not a tree at all. Instead, it's a girl who _looks_ like a tree, with branches for arms, twigs for fingers, leaves for hair. She's a weeping willow tree, and her eyes glimmer with tears that threaten to fulfil her name. "Who _are_ you?" I whisper reverently.

"I am a dryad, a spirit of trees. I have heard tell from my sisters on the edge of this Realm that the preybird steals ever closer."

Kartik's fingers close around my wrist. "Thank you for the advice, Lady Willow. We will 'ware the preybird as you suggested." To me he says, "We should go, Gemma."

"You're right." I instinctively turn and bow to the willow woman, just as I bow to the others of the New Order. She looks surprised, if a tree-person can look surprised, and then pleased as she returns the gesture.

"You were truly the right choice for the Realms, Lady. Serve them well." With that, she melts back into the tree line.

"Let's go, Kartik. I have a bad feeling about this." Together he and I start for the edge of camp, an odd determination in our strides. I tense when we reach the unseen barrier, the magick thrumming in my veins with my edginess. We break through to the campground without any complications, but I still can't let my guard down. Nor do I let go of Kartik's hand as my eyes dart around camp, searching for my friends. "Where are they?" I whisper anxiously.

Almost as though my voice was a summons, my Realm-based comrades appear in the trees. William is walking with them, his golden hair shimmering in the sun and his hand loosely braced on the hilt of his sword. They are all grimly silent, but they have returned his sword – they must trust him. What has been said in my absence, I wonder? I tense even further, a crackle of magick sizzling through my nerves, begging to be released.

"Relax, Gemma." When that garners no reaction from me, Kartik tries again. "_Humsafar_, relax."

The unfamiliar word helps me to regain my balance, my control. I clench my hand into a fist, dissipating the magick back into the Realms. "What would I do without you?" I murmur, not really to Kartik, but not really to myself either. I look up at him, green eyes searching for something in his expression. "You told me that you would explain what that word means," I remember. "Will you tell me now?"

Kartik's eyes dart to our approaching friends, as though gauging their distance, but he nods. "It's a Hindu word," he explains distractedly. "It means…" He hesitates. "It means lifemate."

I suck my breath in sharply, startled. This is much more serious than some silly Hindi pet name, as I thought it was. He and I have said that we love each other, but what did I really expect to come of whispered confessions in another world, away from our homes? Kartik _loves_ me, as my parents must have _loved_ each other, as Mrs. Nightwing must have _loved_ Mr. Nightwing… I open my mouth to say something, but his gaze is on someone behind me, presumably our friends.

"Well come, Sir Knight," he says coolly. "And what say you?"

I turn, wary of having my back to William, no matter what Min may say. My reptilian friend isn't looking at me, though, her gaze on this confrontation between the two human males of the New Order. William appears very solemn, his eyes glittering with some emotion as he unfastens his sword belt and lays it at my feet. From the expression on William's face, this must be some ceremonious gesture, though Kartik looks just as confused as I feel by it.

"I have spoken with Min, Asha, and Philon," William says softly, addressing me. "If what they say is true…" Here he stops, shakes his head, and corrects himself. "What they say is true. The woman – the girl that I have been serving has been lying to me the whole while. She is using me and the other people in her thrall to build her own magick, draining us of our emotions and life force."

I blink, surprised. I hadn't made the connections between Pippa's shared kiss and black sparkles that my comrades apparently had, but it made sense. I motion with my hand, gesturing for William to continue.

"I swear by the sword of the Realms, the shield of the Knights, and the blood in my veins… I swear by the covenant of the New Order, the sweetness of shared magick, and the security of amity… I swear by all that is sacred, I _will_ be the Winter Queen's downfall!" he vowed in a ringing voice.

I hear Felicity behind me, "So he's finally realised that Pippa was making him a fool, has he? Well, that gives us a foot soldier, at least." Her voice is cold, almost icy, and I can sense that she is still angry that I want to bring William into the New Order. She and Ann must have only just returned from their ramble in the Garden.

Ann shushes Fee. "He can be more than a foot soldier, Felicity. And he will be, won't he, Gemma?"

I realise that she is trying to give me an opening. "Yes, he will." I look at William, trying to find the right words to express what I need to say. "William, do you think that you could serve as the representative of the Knights for the New Order?"

Min and Asha look startled, probably because I hadn't even mentioned wanting to make William a part of the New Order, but they don't object. Philon has no discernable expression, so I can't tell if he's pleased or dismayed by my suggestion. If Min and Asha look startled, though, William looks absolutely _stunned_ by my question.

"I… well… that is to say…"

Kartik breaks in with a sneer, "Can we trust you, _William_? Or will you go crawling back to your so-called _Goddess_ at the first opportunity?" I stare at him in disbelief. I have never heard Kartik sneer before, and it works surprisingly well for him. I doubt that I could ever manage to sneer convincingly, not without practice.

William looks offended. "I can serve as the New Order's knight, and I will, my Lady," he says to me. "I will be at your side in the battle for the Realms, protecting you until the last."

"As will I," Felicity affirms. Kartik agrees, and then Ann, then Min, then Philon, and finally Asha. I look at my circle of friends, astounded by the solemnity of their voices and faces. They are willing to die for me. And, looking into Kartik's dark eyes, I realise that I'm willing to die for them, too.

"We must get ready for the battle, Priestess," Asha breaks into the charged silence. "While Min and William were talking, I was scrying. The false Queen is very near, perhaps a half-day's ride from our position. We _must_ prepare."

I shake my head. "Asha, what else can we do? We have stockpiled weapons, practiced the magick, gained an ally. We might win a battle by constantly running about, but we will lose the war. We need to rest."

"I agree," Kartik says. "We should sleep for at least an hour or so. We will not be much use in battle if we are too tired to stand, much less fight."

William nods, apparently eager to help. "I will take the first watch while everyone sleeps."

Philon's eyes narrow; I believe that he still doesn't trust the knight. "I will watch with you. The Forest folk rarely require sleep, and I have sufficient to last me through the next few days."

William doesn't look disappointed, simply agrees. Philon looks to the sword belt at my feet, and I pick it up to hand it over to him. When he takes it from me, he rests his hand briefly on my arm. "Sleep well, child. You will need the rest."

I thank him. Then, looking to William, I realise what I have forgotten. "William…" I wait until he looks at me to continue, "As part of the New Order, you are entitled to a share in the magick." I lift my left hand, resting it on my heart, and extending the other towards him. "We are not like your oppressors," I tell him. Then I mentally open myself, letting the magick stream down my arm and through my fingertips, a portion draining into William. In that brief moment of connection, I can sense his thoughts and emotions. He bears the New Order no ill will, for which I am grateful. I cannot be betrayed by someone else, not again.

"Thank you, my Lady," he whispers, once I have lifted my hand and severed the connection. "Thank you for trusting me." He bows, and then he and Philon turn and begin walking around the perimeter of the campground, presumably on "first watch." Min, Asha, Fee, and Ann watch for a few moments, and then murmur goodbyes before disappearing into their respective tents.

Kartik looks at me, expressionless. "Come on, Gemma," he says, draping an arm over my shoulders. "We need to rest."

I permit him to tug me towards our tent, too drained by everything that has been happening to feel nervous or apprehensive about sleeping next to Kartik. I only want to sleep, "to sleep, perchance to dream." Then again, dreaming isn't necessarily the best thing for me right now; the last thing I need is disturbing visions on the cusp of a decisive battle for the freedom of the Realms. Nor am I contemplating suicide, as the doomed Prince of Denmark was in his soliloquy.

I'm rambling. Now I know I really _am_ tired. Therefore, it is with little hesitation that I push through the flap into the dimness of the tent I share with Kartik. He follows willingly, not stumbling in the slightest although I'm giving him very little opportunity to orient himself in the dark tent. He reaches out with one hand, bringing the hurricane lamp to half brightness even as I twine my fingers through his other hand. Kartik arrests my fatigued flurry of movement with a tightening of his fingers around mine, and I turn to look at him questioningly.

"It'll be all right, Gemma," he murmurs, reaching up and tucking some hair behind my ear. Kartik brushes his lips over my temple, and I relax into his arms, nestling my face against his shoulder.

"Thank you," I whisper. "Now please… Sleep?" He nods against my head, and I smile gratefully, though he can't see my expression. Kartik gently guides me down onto the sleeping mat, pulling me close to his side and again permitting me to use him as a pillow. Oblivion and Morpheus' realm comes rushing towards me, and the last, inane thought that flits through my mind…

_Did Lao Tsu dream the butterfly or did the butterfly dream Lao Tsu?_

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**A/N**: The usual rundown – talk to me, review, I'm listening (á la Frasier Crane), apologies for tardiness, blah blah bliddy blah I'm-so-stuffy-hand-me-a-scone. By now, you should know the drill.

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**Next Chapter Teaser**: _"How nice to see you again, Gemma."_


	14. In the Heat of Battle

**Disclaimer**: All recognizable things belong to Libba Bray, that amazing woman who deigned to give us a glimpse into her mind. All else… Well, I suppose you could say it was mine. I would prefer you didn't, though.

**A/N**: This one's for JIR and KLC, though I know they'll never read it. Thanks also to all the reviewers. You guys ROCK my SOCKS. This is finally, _finally_ the chapter you've all been waiting for: the battle, yay! I hope that I've written it well, and any suggestions or commentary that you have about it are, as always, fully appreciated. I really hope that this helps make up from my unexpectedly prolonged hiatus. And, on that note… Enjoy!

_**Refresher**_: _Did Lao Tsu dream the butterfly or did the butterfly dream Lao Tsu?_

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**In the Realms, Chapter ****Fourteen**

I am dreaming again. There are flitting butterflies, with green and white banded bodies and fluttering red and blue wings, bounding from flower to flower… From a purple orchid, to purest jasmine, the butterflies refuse to choose just one. Then a fluttering moth appears, clothed in shades of brown. Its wings brush against the wings of one of the butterflies, and the butterfly pulls away from its group and darts off with the moth.

Then comes a large black cat comes sneaking up behind them, and transmutes into a glittering black butterfly. It flies in circles around the brown moth and colourful butterfly, and then dances in front of the moth enticingly. The black insect reaches out with one wing and caresses the moth, luring it away from the vibrant butterfly… and then it transmutes back into a black cat that swallows up the brown moth.

With an evil grin, the cat stares at the vivid little butterfly and purrs. In that ominous sound, I seem to hear a threat: _'You're next…'_

I wake to the acrid scent of something burning, and the first thought that I have is that I am back in the East Wing, flames raging about me. I bolt upright, my hand automatically going to the pendant around my throat.

"_Faylu jwu bditul_!" I shout, not really in control of my voice. "_Faylu jwu bditul_!"

"Gemma!" Someone's arms wrap around me from behind, pinning my flailing hands to my side. "Gemma, calm down! What's wrong?"

Reality restores itself, and I blink in the dimness of my tent. I look down at the firm, brown arms wrapped around me, and then over my shoulder at the man holding me. "Kartik…"

He relaxes his grip, easing his hands away. "Gemma, what happened? You were asleep, and then you suddenly sat up, screaming something in that… magick language."

Something is biting into my palm, and I look down at my clenched fist. With some difficulty, I unfold my stiff fingers and stare down at the pendant in my gloved hand. Without really understanding how I know this, I murmur, "It's time." I raise my head and look Kartik in the eye. "The War of the Realms has begun."

"What are you talking about, Gemma?"

"Come on – we need to get out of here." I scramble to my feet and push my way through the tent flap, emerging into… a serene campsite. Nothing burning, no one screaming. Then why did I smell flames and why did my pendant force me from sleep? Did it at all?

Kartik comes up from behind me, putting his hands on my shoulders. "Gemma, calm down. You're fretting over nothing!"

Smoke again reaches my nostrils, and I pull away from his touch. "Nothing, you say? How can you say our campsite burning about our ears is _nothing_?"

He looks at me, his dark eyes full of concern, and shakes his head. "Oh, Gemma. Darling Gemma, are you still having those nightmares?"

"Nightmares?" I repeat, my gaze wandering over the perfectly calm area. Perhaps I am delusional… Maybe it was nothing more than a dream.

Kartik nods and tucks my hair behind my ear. "From the time that you've spent in the Realms, Gemma. Sometimes you wake up screaming about Poppy Warriors or the shadows that kill. You once railed for ten minutes straight about some sort of Shadow Warriors that had hunted you and the others of the New Order. You kept saying that Pippa wasn't protected, that the horsemen wanted her with them."

I glare sharply at him. "I never told you that."

He tilts his head to the side. "Of course you did, Gemma. You told me everything after we left the Realms. I know it hurts sometimes, but you need to let go of the New Order. They're gone; they're not coming back."

"What?" I whisper, looking down at my pendant. "Gone?" I look up, into the horizon. "Dead?"

Kartik puts his hands on my shoulders again, and then tilts my chin up so that I meet his gaze. "Gemma, you know that the Winter Queen defeated the New Order in the battle for the Realms. She spared your life because you sacrificed the others to her."

"No… I would never…"

"Shh. I understand; you feel guilty about it still. But they would have done the same, to preserve their lives. You only did to them what they would have done to you."

"No!" I scream, wrenching myself free of Kartik's grasp. Smoke permeates the air for a brief moment, and then is gone. "You'll not get me this way, Pippa!" I shout to the sky. "I shan't believe your lies!" A deep chuckle answers my words, and I turn to look at Kartik. He's changed – his smile is fanged, his eyes upturned at the corners, and his fingers have talons on the end.

"Very good, Priestess," he snarls. "I almost had you. Very well – you have won a single battle. But you cannot win the war."

This pseudo-Kartik shimmers like mist, and then is gone. With him goes the façade of a halcyon campsite, and the scents and sounds of battle hit me straight on. I see Min with a quiver full of noxious green arrows, which she is shooting into a swarm of shadows that are heading straight for her. Ann is holding her own against a sort of rotting woman, who looks as though she has been dead some time, holding a sort of African-looking spear; as my gaze sweeps over this small scuffle, I see Ann disarm her opponent and scramble into another skirmish without pause for breath. Kartik is battling another creature, who continues to change shape even as Kartik has him pinned to the ground. _'How many shapeshifters does Pippa have?'_

Philon is using both weapons and hooves to fight, crushing as many opponents beneath his rearing body as he kills using his magickal weaponry. Felicity fights at his side, her lips pulled back to expose a ferocious sneer, her wild blonde hair streaming behind her. Asha does not engage in full battle; instead, she sits in a meditative pose, but she strikes down those of Pippa's soldiers who dare to come near her with as little exertion as breathing. William the Golden Knight is fighting his way through a crowd of foot soldiers, his blade shining crimson with the lifeblood of those whom he has already felled. At the centre of the crowd, I recognize the shapeshifter, Agerthan, that I saw in my vision, and I realise that this fight will be personal for William.

I turn, because I feel a rush of air at my back, and startle a soldier, who is in the very act of swinging a blade at my back. With a flick of my wrist, I send him flying. He lands on another soldier's spear, and I spare a moment to cringe at this first act of war; as I take a breath, I notice that my pendant is again around my throat, no longer in my hand as it was in my false vision. Then I spin round on my heel, my hands outstretched, and send a burst of magick through my fingertips that slices through every soldier of Pippa's within range. For a moment, there is a clear circle around me, but then shadows fill the void, and I again battle for the Realms. Fires have broken out in various places around the clearing – I spare a moment to wonder exactly how Pippa's forces broke through our shield – and I recall my instinctive words upon waking.

"_Faylu jwu bditul_!" I cry. I gesture to all the fires that I see and repeat the chant six more times. On my last repetition, water shimmers over the flames, and then falls, dousing the crackling fire in an instant. One of them was near William, and he spares a breath to gesture his thanks in my direction.

I return my attention to the shadows surrounding me, and reach up with one hand to touch my pendant. When my gloved fingers make contact with the beaten metal, the knowledge of the previous Order surges into my psyche, and I hear the spell in my mind.

"_Dekwj_!" An orb of light appears in my curved hands; I bring it over my head and clap my hands together. The ball of light shatters, a spear of light arcing into the core of each shadow within the radius of my previous attack. With a terrible scream, they die in a burst of whiteness.

"It's not enough!" shouts Ann as she appears at my side, out of breath from fighting. "Your abilities have limits!"

"Not if we work together! If we pool our magick, we can do anything!" I shout back. I grab her hand and tell her the spell to use. "Say it with me!"

As one, we raise our hands to the sky and shout, "_Dekwj_!" Together we shatter the resultant sphere of light, and every Shadow Creature within the campground shrieks in agony as they burn away.

A few metres away, Felicity pulls the trigger of her crossbow, and the metal bolt flies home, catching a spectre of a girl in the heart. She falls to the ground, truly dead, soul-dead, but another soon replaces her. And then another spectre appears at Felicity's back, then her side, then across from her, and…

"Fee!" Ann cries out in alarm. She turns to me, her brown eyes worried, and I have to appreciate just how _Ann_ she is right now. Only our Ann-girl could spare the energy to worry about a friend in the middle of pitched battle. "Gemma, we have to do something."

"But what?" My eyes widen, and I pull her down to the ground as I dive for cover. "Duck!"

"What was that?" hisses Ann.

"Some sort of boomerang blade." I shake the strangeness of that statement away and look over at Felicity, who is valiantly struggling to escape from the circle of spectres. "What can we do?"

Ann's mind is clearly racing. "I don't know… We need a spell!"

"To do _what_?" I see a blade arcing towards Ann's neck and instinctively conjure a shield. "_Rdanq_!"

Ann starts to thank me, but then her brown eyes widen, she repeats the spell-word – "_Rdanq_!" – and I feel a swish of air at my back followed by a tremendous clanging noise. "Can you create a shield that will prevent anything from striking us, but that will allow us to send physical blows through?" Ann asks quickly.

I blink, trying to process her request. "I-I don't know… I could try, I suppose." My hand creeps up to my pendant, gripping it tightly. Again, the knowledge of the past Order inundates my mind as I pick through the information, trying to find a single spell among the flood of unfamiliar verbiage. Finally, I think I've found a suitable one – I'm surprised that I'm not dead yet – and gesture at Fee, shouting, "_Ryrrdu_!"

A silvery orb shimmers into being around Felicity, muffling her startled yell. She pokes warily at the substance, but her hand doesn't pass through. She tries slashing at it with a hand-dagger, but the blade won't penetrate. Ann looks askance at me, and I cringe.

"Perhaps that wasn't the right spell…"

"Maybe not, but we can use it to our advantage," returns Ann. She conjures a shield into her hands and sends it flying, discus-style, at an approaching apparition. The apparition dissipates when the shield flies through it, and Ann re-absorbs the magick she exerted to create the shield. "If we can trap our enemies into things like that, then they won't be able to move, nor attack. It's like a cage!"

I watch, horror-stricken, as Felicity's bubble rolls towards a tree. "And Fee's stuck in one. Come on!" I take off at a dead run, hoping to avert certain disaster. At the last moment, I reach up and touch my pendant, searching for the reversal spell. The closest one I can find sounds rather childish, but I suppose it will work, because it has to, since Fee is moments from slamming against one of the branches, and why am I still thinking about this? "_Xax_!" I cry, and Felicity is released from her prison.

"Remind me not to irritate you, Gemma, darling!" she calls to me, turning to engage another creature in battle.

"Fee, wait!" I run over to her. "If you use the spell-word '_Ryrrdu_,' it traps your opponent in a bubble… Much like the one I accidentally trapped you in – for which I apologise, by the bye – it is impenetrable, and keeps them from attacking you."

"Got it: ry-er-do." Felicity turns away, a determined look on her face, and I spare a moment to sigh at her obstinacy. Then I turn and see Kartik, a hideously long gash down his cheek, aiming a longbow – well, the arrow that is notched into the longbow – at a creature attacking Philon. His eyes narrow in concentration as he takes aim and releases the taut string, and… I wonder why I have the time to notice him. After all, I'm in the middle of a battle.

A spear abruptly appears, flying at me. Perhaps I spoke too quickly. "_Rdanq_!" A shield deflects the blow, and I take a leaf from Ann's book, throwing the shield at my attacker discus-style. It strikes the soldier in the head, felling him almost instantly. Just as quickly, another soldier takes his place, and I use the caging spell on him. With _that_ opponent out of the way, I turn in search of another.

Rushing towards me is a hag, a creature that I never really believed existed, even in the Realms. Her awful features are twisted with fury, her talons outstretched. I try the caging spell on her, but she darts right through the bubble of magick, and realise that she must have some innate ability of her own. I reach for my pendant and find an appropriate spell: "_Bzuusu ihf lwijjuz_!" With a shriek as dreadful as her appearance, the hag stops mid-lunge and breaks into thousands of pieces, like a sculpture that has been smashed with a hammer.

I dart behind a tree to catch my breath, and re-emerge into an eerily serene campsite. This must be another of Pippa's tricks. There is a single tent in the clearing, and a man sitting just outside it. His head is bowed as though he has been waiting for some time, but I recognize who he is supposed to be, even from this distance. It's a pseudo-Kartik; really, Pippa must be obsessed with him. This is the second attempt she's given at using Kartik to distract me. I decide to go along with it, just to get a feel for Pippa's next plot.

"Kartik, what's going on?" I ask, stepping out from behind the tree with feigned astonishment. "Just a moment ago, we were fighting for the Realms and now… It's all quiet. What happened?"

The man lifts his head and looks at me. "Gemma, where have you been?" he asks, getting to his feet stiffly. "I've been waiting ages for you."

I walk towards him gingerly, aware that I'm probably still walking through a battlefield, though I can't see it at the moment. "Have you? Oh, I apologise. How rude of me to keep you waiting."

He sighs and shakes his head. "Gemma, we need to talk."

"Certainly. In the tent?" I suggest, aware that no battles are currently being fought inside the tents, therefore making them the safest spot for me right now. Pseudo-Kartik nods mutely and draws back the flap, permitting me to enter first. Once we are inside – either Pippa's minion is letting me see the tent as it truly is, or he's expending undue effort to keep it the way Kartik and I had it – I settle onto the sleeping mat and look at him curiously. "What do we need to talk about, Kartik?" I ask softly, reaching out to touch his cheek reassuringly. After all, I might as well keep the façade as intact as possible.

"_This_." The single word comes out so shortly and so forcefully that I freeze halfway through the comforting gesture, my hand never reaching his skin. "_This_ is what we need to discuss." He gestures eloquently between us as he elaborates, "Gemma, just what are we doing?"

I struggle to keep my voice neutral as I draw my hand back to rest in my lap. _This_ is how Pippa plans to disarm me? "I thought that we were fighting a war against Pippa. At least, that's what we were doing the last time I checked. What do _you_ think we're doing?" I ask, my gaze resolutely on the dirt between our mats. If this underling can't see my expression, then he can't evaluate how well Pippa's little trap is working.

"Damn it, Gemma, the war's over! What are we supposed to do now? Look, you're a very pretty girl, but…" The pseudo-Kartik sweeps frustrated fingers through his thick curls. "This won't work."

I laugh. "Are you joking, Kartik? With everything that's happening, you choose to discuss…" I trail off, realising that there really isn't a name for whatever has been going on between the real Kartik and myself.

"_Exactly_," pseudo-Kartik says emphatically. "You see? What are we doing here, Gemma? You and I have no chance of being together back there, in the physical world. So why are we pretending as though we have a chance here?"

Heat rushes to my face and my throat tightens unpleasantly. "Kartik…"

"You know it's true, Gemma." He lifts one hand as though to touch my face, but I pull away. He leans forward instead, speaking earnestly. "You're the daughter of English gentry, and I am naught but a poor Indian boy. What could I ever give you?"

I consider the question just as seriously as I would have if the _real_ Kartik had asked it of me. "You could give me love," I whisper. "You could give me a place where I feel as though I belong."

The charlatan shakes his head. "You _belong_ among the gentry of England, Miss Doyle. You should have wedded Percival Faber."

I try and fail to hide my smirk. "Perhaps I would have – if he had asked me to wed him. Really, shapeshifter, I would have expected _better_ from the Queen of the Winterlands' underling."

The blood drains from the face of the pseudo-Kartik, and he curses in another language. "Very well, Miss Doyle," he snarls. "Another round goes to you, but you shan't be so lucky when next we meet."

He leaps to his feet and darts out of the tent. I creep over to the flap and pull it back, half-expecting the outside still to be as serene as Pippa, for some reason, wants me to see it. I wonder if there is a way to prevent any further illusory attempts at distracting me. When I look through, I see Min, locked in hand-to-hand combat against a sort of humanoid bird-creature. It has a beak and wings, but it also has arms and legs; I wish I knew what it was. Well, the war is still clearly in progress; I should get out there and continue to fight it. I steal out of the tent and sneak up behind another creature, this one in the process of attacking Philon.

"_Ryrrdu_!" I gesture at the strangely aquatic reminiscent creature, and it is instantly trapped in a gleaming bubble. Philon gives me a cursory nod of thanks, and then turns to engage a black pegasus in combat. With no one in the New Order in dire straits (for the moment), I conjure a shield at my back and walk towards the trapped sea-creature. It seems to have gills in its throat, as well as the usual respiration components. I pace all the way round the creature's bubble, before standing in front of it and looking it in the face. Its bilious yellow eyes blink vacantly at me.

"What are you?" I ask. "Why do you serve Pippa?" It says nothing, so I shrug my leather-clad shoulders in a show of indifference. "Very well." I press my hand against the bubble and allow a moment of sadness that this unusual creature's spirit will be forever lost to the Realms – all because of Pippa's need to rule the Realms absolutely. "_Bzuusu ihf lwijjuz_," I whisper.

The bubble solidifies and splinters within seconds, too quickly for the unknown warrior to cry out. But almost as quickly does another soldier take its place, and I am again battling against a creature. This one hisses at me, just as a cat might, and slashes at me with deadly looking claws.

"_Rdanq_!" I cry, barely catching the swipe against my shield. Even so, the strength of the cat-creature staggers me, and I fall to one knee. This time I don't rely on my mother's magick, but focus my imagination and the magick of the Realms. With a swirl and whisper of magick, a large dog-like being appears behind the cat-creature, barking loudly. The cat-thing yowls in fright and scrabbles up a tree, making me laugh at the simplicity of victory.

Kartik appears (non-magickally) at my side, his face grimy and his curls damp with sweat. Before he opens his mouth to address me, though, I quickly conjure a fencing foil and go into a defensive posture. I have never before used a sword, though I once saw a drawing of a foil in a library book, but I believe that the pointed end goes into the opponent. "Kartik, why did you throw a rock at Simon Middleton's window when you were my family's footman?" I ask guardedly.

He blinks in confusion. "I wasn't," he said. "I was your driver, remember, Gemma? And it was because I saw him touching your hair."

I relax and allow the epée to shimmer away. "I apologize, but Pippa has been putting me into false circumstances with rather revolting imitations of you. I wanted to make certain that you weren't here to stick a knife into my back."

Kartik seems about to ask just what I mean, but then his expression hardens as he senses something that I do not. Without looking away from me, he conjures a spear and stabs a soldier that had been rushing at us. "Gemma, listen to me," he says urgently, his eyes willing me to understand what he's saying. "_This isn't working_. Pippa's ranks are overwhelming the New Order. What can we do?"

William runs past, his blade slick with black blood, and he pauses briefly to rub the sword clean on a dead creature's pelt. I wonder absently if this means that Agerthan is defeated, or if William still battles the shapeshifter, and then recall my mind to Kartik's words. "I don't know… I…"

Felicity comes running up from another part of the battlefield, and I spare a moment to marvel at how my friends instinctively seek me out in midst of conflict, though I can do nothing that they cannot. "Gemma, it's not looking good," she says, her voice containing a note of stress in it that I've never heard there before. "We need a spell… or a-a _ritual_ to destroy them."

"Yes, well…" A spear whizzes by my head, and I quickly drop into a crouch. Just as I'm about to continue speaking, some sort of fireball lands in our midst, forcing us to scatter. A zephyr whirls by, Min rushes past brandishing a wickedly sharp dagger, Philon thunders up next to me as he shouts something, and it's all getting so I can't hear myself think, and I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing that it would all just… "_Stop_!" I scream, throwing my hands up in frustration.

When I open my eyes again, everything is entirely still, just as it was during the opera intermission last winter. Well, not _entirely_ – it's more as though every living thing is moving extremely slowly. I turn to look at my comrades, and am shocked to see that I have slowed their movement, as well. I would love to devote time to the study of this phenomenon, now that I have manifested it for a second time, but my priority is assisting the New Order. To each member of the New Order I shall bestow a gift, one that I have the luxury of considering, as I move within the silence that inhabits the space between heartbeats, seconds, breaths. I choose Kartik as my first; I walk to him and place my hand on his arm.

"I know that you tire," I tell him. "I know that you tire of battle, of arguments, of interruptions. My gift to you is endurance, and the knowledge that you will emerge victorious." I hesitate, but quickly press a kiss against the fingers that he has wrapped around the hilt of a curved blade. "Victory will be ours," I promise, my lips moving against his skin.

Then I go to Min, who is in midst of swinging a scythe, which was presumably taken from a fallen opponent. I duck under the blade and touch her on the arm. "Min, I thank you for your loyalty. In gratitude, I promise to help you restore your tribe to its former glory, some way, somehow." Perhaps it is my imagination, but I think I see Min's reptilian gaze flicker towards me when I make my pledge, feel the slightest trace of muscle response under my hand. I turn away in search of another New Order cohort.

Asha is slowly deflecting a blow when I approach her, so I summon a blast of magick to knock her assailant a few metres away to give myself room to manoeuvre. I kneel at her side and press my fingers against her arm. "Asha, you have guided me as no one else could. You already lead your women, so I cannot give you a tribe; you have endured a lifetime of pain and things of which few others could dream, so I cannot give you any more fortitude or patience than you already have. Instead, I give you the ability to help others see past surface value, to always know the path to truth that so few know how to find."

The closest person I can see is the newest member of the New Order, and I know so very little of him; how am I to know what he requires of me? Yet I have endeavoured to procure some sort of blessing or another for my comrades, and he is no different. I walk to William and lightly press my fingertips to the exposed line of his jaw, the only place that I can safely touch him without opening a wound from his studded armour. Apparently, he spent enough time with Min, Asha, and Philon to control the magick. "In my world, I have heard that faith is a God-given virtue, but I am no goddess here. Even so, I give to you, Knight William," I say, my voice as steady as my nerves are not, "the gift of faith in yourself and in your newfound comrades. We shall trust you."

Philon is moving at a slightly faster rate than the others were previously, and I spare a moment to wonder if my accidental spell is wearing off. Then I shake that concern away and put my hand on his flank. "Philon, you are the spymaster, the arms expert, and the most effective leader that I have ever encountered. I wish that I could lead half as well as you. I give to you the ability to share dialogue with the nature entities around you – to become the liaison between the true inhabitants of the Realms and the New Order."

Lastly, I seek Felicity and Ann, together. Luckily, I find the two of them not far from each other, well within the range of my touch. I stretch my arms out and rest a hand on each of their shoulders, wishing to bestow a joint boon. "Ann and Felicity, you have become more than friends; you are my sisters. There is so much that I wish I could give to you, but here is what I have chosen: no matter what occurs in the future, in this battle, we will never be separated. We shall each know where the other is through concentration, and will be able to speak through our minds should we ever be divided. We will never truly be apart, even when it seems that we are."

I step back and summon magick around me like a heavy cloak, closing my eyes and wrapping it around me for a comforting moment. Without opening my eyes, I make a gesture as though unwrapping a ribbon from around my body and lift my arms, casting a web of magick around me. My comrades are unharmed, but the weakest of Pippa's foot soldiers burn away to nothing when the metaphysical trap touches them. I am grateful that I can't hear their screams, as I'm certain that the sound would be piteous, but I can't delay the battle any further.

I allow the magick to settle around my friends, giving the Realms time to bestow the gifts that I have vowed to confer upon the New Order. Once that is done, I clasp my hands in front of me and take a deep breath. "Restore," I murmur on the exhale.

The sounds and sights of battle resume around me, and I smile to myself as I see Felicity looking around in confusion for her opponent. I spare no more time on assessing the breadth of my friends' surprise, and instead conjure a long fencing foil into my hand, imbuing the blade with a deadliness borne of magick that no physical weapon could possibly contain.

'_I hope I'm doing this correctly,'_ I pray silently, and then run directly towards the heart of the camp, naked blade in hand. About halfway there, a man steps into my path, effectively blocking me. I lift my foil in mute challenge, and the man smirks. As clearly as though his thoughts are written across his armour, I can tell that he doesn't believe me a true opponent. Very well, he will be that much more surprised when I defeat him.

"If you stand down now," I warn him quietly, "you will be permitted to live."

Still smirking, my opponent draws a wickedly curved blade that looks vaguely Arabian in origin. "How odd," he returns. "That's exactly what I was about to say to you." He shrugs. "I expect that your answer will be the same as mine, so…"

I barely bring my blade up in time to parry his abrupt sweep, gritting my teeth with the effort of holding him back. "_Jwzam_!" I snarl, pushing with all my might. He stumbles back, his eyes wide with astonishment. Then he bares his teeth in a sneer, his eyes tapering to slits; I shan't surprise him with such a spell again.

When he thrusts the point of his sword towards my chest, I react instinctively, bringing my fist to my heart, my foil lying diagonally across my torso. Just as my opponent's blade is about to pierce my hand, the henna painting on my skin flares to life. The design glows gold for the briefest moment, and then melts into my body, instilling a golden hue to my skin that repels the blade just as surely as a shield would have. I silently thank the Realms for Asha, and then clench my jaw in preparation for the killing blow. To my astonishment, my opponent simply melts away into shadows, which then dissipate.

I am left staring, stupefied, at the empty ground before me. In that lull of bewilderment, I inexplicably feel a presence coming from behind me, and I whip around, aiming to slash my blade across this sneaker's belly. My aim is a bit off, and the person stops short, so that my blow doesn't even touch their clothing. It is a man of perhaps average height that stares calculatingly at me, his head tilted to one side in a curiously bird-like manner.

"Hello, false Queen. How nice to see you again, _Gemma_," the dark man says with a smile that seems more of a sneer. The way that he says my name makes it sound more of an insult than anything else. "Did I startle you?"

I make a three-quarter turn so that my shoulder is perpendicular to his body and extend my sword arm until the tip of my foil just flutters in front of his chest. "I think not, Agerthan," I say evenly.

He looks startled, but quickly smoothes his surprise away. "I should have known that you would have spies in our army, false Queen."

"I didn't, and stop calling me that," I snap. My arm quivers slightly with ache of having my foil extended in a single position, but I do nothing. Mentally, I seek out Felicity and Ann, sending a quiet call for aid. I more feel than hear a response, a comforting pressure in my head that reassures me that they are on their way.

"Why not?" Agerthan retorts. "You have claimed the Realms, to which you have no true right. My Goddess-Queen Pippa is truly of the Realms – she should rule, not you!"

"I do not 'rule' at all." I know that he is drawing me into this debate for some diabolical purpose, but I cannot prevent myself from arguing with him. "Your so-called 'queen' is a liar."

"And you are not?" Agerthan asked silkily. "Very well, perhaps you are not. But what of your comrades? How can you be so sure they aren't lying?" Before my eyes, he transforms into each of my friends in turn. "Did Min truly lose her tribe?" he asks in her voice before becoming Felicity. "What is your Strength not telling you?" He transforms into Ann. "Why doesn't she trust you with her life's story?" He becomes Philon in face only; perhaps such a drastic shift in physical form is too difficult for him. "Do you truly believe he won't betray you?" Asha's face sneers at me, "How can you be sure that she is telling you everything?" I mentally brace myself for the one that I know is coming now, but I flinch when Agerthan becomes Kartik anyway. "Do you know that he has lied to you countless times?"

My arm is shaking quite violently now, and I feel as though the only cure would be to drop the foil altogether. I stiffen my arm even more resolutely than before, though, determined not to succumb to whatever spell is upon me. "I trust them implicitly, Agerthan," I say quietly. "Can Pippa say the same for you?"

A flicker of doubt races across his countenance, but it's gone before I can react to it. "What would you know of my Queen?" he sneers.

"She was once my best friend," I reply solemnly. "I know her much better than you could ever hope to know her."

He goes rigid, his face returning to the one that I have seen him in most, though I doubt it is his own. "Be careful of such hubris, Pretender," he snarls. "My Queen has destroyed others for less."

"And yet here I am, still standing, still taunting you," I retort, feeling a trickle of sweat starting to edge down my temple. "Do you have anything to _say_, Agerthan, or are we just going to stand here all day, staring at each other?"

His dark eyes glitter fiendishly, his lips pulling back in a harsh smile. "Not at all, Pretender," he says smoothly. "I was simply here to serve as a distraction."

I lower my foil to my side, my mind racing, anxiety and apprehension overwhelming my thoughts. "To distract me? Why? From what?" A black shadow races over the ground next to me, and Agerthan reaches up, grasping the hand of a harpy-woman that hauls him into the air with her. His dark laughter echoes across the landscape, leaving me frustrated and straining to catch his last words.

"Check on your comrades, false Queen!" he calls back to me. "And know that you shan't survive our next encounter."

I am left staring after him, my eyes unblinking as my fingers convulse around the grip of my foil. It is in this position that Ann and Fee find me in, when they finally arrive, liberally coated in dirt and grime.

"I heard you in my head, Gemma," Ann says breathlessly. "A new gift?"

"Somewhat," I murmur, distracted. "Is everyone all right?"

Fee snorts. "About as well as could be expected. We're alive, which is enough. Gemma, we were woefully unprepared. I think we need to bring the other tribes into the New Order to fight at our side, instead of just representatives. We need more people."

"Good plan," I acquiesce, my gaze still on the horizon. "But I think we have trouble headed our way."

"What do you mean?" asks Ann.

I lift the hand not gripping a deadly blade and point at a black speck that is rapidly growing, the closer it comes to us. "Look up." Fee and Ann obey, both paling slightly.

"A chariot," breathes Felicity

"Pippa," Ann realizes, her lips hardly moving. "She's coming into the front lines herself."

Red spots of colour appear in Felicity's cheeks as she swears, "We are _so_ destined for the Winterlands!"

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**A/N**: I know that some of you don't believe that the magick-speech is a viable language, so here are the translations of the spells and spell-words used in this chapter: _Faylu jwu bditul_ -- douse the flames; _Dekwj_ -- light; _Rdanq_ -- block; _Ryrrdu_ -- bubble; _Xax_ -- pop; _Bzuusu ihf lwijjuz_ -- freeze and shatter; _Jwzam_ -- throw.

Anyway, thanks for keeping up with this even through all the sporadic updates and whatnot; w00t, 130 reviews! I'm so proud. So I'm sure that most of you lovely readers are aware that Libba Bray will be releasing the third book of the series quite soon, so this fic will become AU shortly [and if you weren't aware, then now you are. I really appreciate all of your encouragement and incentive. Blessed be.**  
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**Next Chapter Teaser**: _"No, Kartik! Damn you, witch, I will have your _head_ for this!"_


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